A Whole New World
by Eyes like Dawn
Summary: Belle was transported to Storybrooke not as Regina's prisoner, but Rumpelstiltskin's newly aquired slave who is still getting used to her captivity and living with a monster. Can somthing grow in her heart for a beast who not only took her away from home but took her away from their world? Can the Dark One feel anything for his captive woman he hardly knows? A 'what if' story.
1. Leaving

_A/N: Those plot bunnies. I swear they are stalking me and now they have taken ninja classes so I am screwed. Anyway, I've been thinking of this story for a long while. It's AU mostly, I suppose. The thought of what if Belle was Rumpel's slave in Storybrooke kinda stuck with me for a while. _

**~8~8~**

Light cascaded grandly from the setting sun slowing sinking into the hazy western horizon. Warmth engulfed the main hall of the terrifying Dark Castle as dusky crimson luminance streamed serenely through the titanic windows of the main hall like a maidens colorful carnelian handkerchief waving through the air to bid the world ado until the morrow.

The golden orb of day was regally descending from its lofty aerie to nestle behind the jagged line of dark, frost capped peaks casting the vivid cobalt sky with streamers of violet and ruby and mystical purple painted in mulled hues upon the never ending firmament.

Misty blue vapors of flitting the thin mountain air and the colors of falling day relinquishing its hold to the cool night mingled breathtakingly in the expanse of crags and dizzying precipices upon the line of perilous mountain range safeguarding the citadel of her master behind its shield of sharpened stone and drifts of heavy snow all but impassable without the aid of magic or a stubborn, hardy will.

The world seemed quiet, and at peace like a child being put to bed; innocent and unsuspecting of the evil about to be doused upon its lush earth and spring boughs budding with greenery and flourishing life.

Belle stared at the glorious sun set solemnly as she rested upon the plush window seat in the main hall. It was her favorite spot to read when the master desired company whilst he sat at his spinner's wheel transmuting heaps of cheap, worthless straw into hoards of gold in quiet reverie of some inner turmoil constantly besetting him.

Her knees were drawn up to her chest and her chin rested upon her arms while her bright sapphire eyes dictated every inch of the land before her to memory. Silky chestnut hair caught the last flaxen rays of day, allowed the sleepy sun to dance in her thick tresses as if not ready to depart from its dominion upon the world.

Normally she adored witnessing the last radiance of the sun fall into its nightly repose and watching the stars blossom upon the satin night sky one by one, but today her heart was leaden with thick clouds of forlornness and regret.

In a few hours all she had ever known, everyone she had recalled from a life before selling herself to Rumpelstiltskin's would be transformed forever.

The evil queen, Regina, who fraternized regularly with her master, known throughout the realms as one of the most powerful wielders of magic, was enacting a curse to abduct them all from their world and spirit them to a land without magic.

With such a spell the entire world would change leaving everyone in an accursed state forever for all eternity.

Of course Rumpelstiltskin had played a hand in it.

She did not know the specifics of what he had wrought, only that he admitted to scheming with the witch and presenting the curse to the vile woman eager to decimate all happiness for her own gain.

When asked, her master refused to tell her what it was all about or why he had bestowed upon the malicious monarch such a terrible weapon. In his own whimsical, lackadaisical manner he would always tell her it was none of her concern, but as the days waned his normally light thoughtful demeanor had grown dour and dampened like a candle running out of wick and wax.

No longer was he the master who delighted engaging in jesting banter with a quip or two, or having an intellectual bandy of words with his brilliant slave. His mood was more contemplative and sagacious in the few days before the terror would pry their world asunder and place them in a foreign land.

For the three days prior, since she learned of his actions, or rather he had finally filled her in, Belle furiously dedicated herself to hopefully convince him to have a change of heart. She ranted and reasoned and pleaded with him to open up to her so that mayhap he would see exactly what his manipulation would bring to innocents and those who merely wanted to live their lives in peace.

But no, he remained staunch in his will to let things run in their dire, inevitable track for whatever reasons he kept tucked into the niches of his black soul leaving her to merely wonder and surmise what in the all the realms was his goal in allowing such disaster to occur. In the few months she had known him, she learned perceptively nothing he did was without reason. There was always a hidden agenda. The only question was, what particular agenda was he aiming for.

"Belle." Rumpelstiltskin's voice broke the tranquil plaintive air as he appeared in the Main Hall in a puff of purple clouds making her abandon her depressed and blazingly curious contemplations.

The lovely beauty did not turn to face her master, the Dark One, but let her bright cobalt orbs soak in the last sun set of their world. From the very corner of her eyes she could see his gangly refection in the translucent pane staring at her softly. An indistinguishable murmur insipidly passed her pink lips in dour reply.

The Dark One stood near the large oaken table in the epicenter of the grandiose room awkwardly as though he did not belong in her presence. Ever since he had purchased her in return for her peoples lives and safety, he felt slightly nervous around her as though she were a dangerous animal that could bite at any given time.

At the very last moments before the storm hit, he decided to come down finally and be with her when the magic struck. All the pieces were in place to his liking leaving now only the expectant waiting for their world to become nothing more than a distant memory in an ancient mind.

Drumming his dexterous talons lightly upon the wood, the magical monster licked his lips once to buy time on what he desired to speak. In the scant time he had bought Belle and lived with her, she had never been so saddened. Not even her first night in the pitch black dungeon. He did not like it seeing her so glum and solemn. No, he would rather she smiled and talked and been normal Belle that made him feel not so lonely.

Clearing his throat, he tried to don the nonchalant mantle of his normal carefree attitude. But with the knowledge of what was to befall them all in the coming hours or perhaps minutes, the noble attempt failed leaving only the dangerous air which crackled about him akin to lightening dancing upon the thick clouds.

Easing down into his normal, leather chair he sighed almost regretfully. His scaled, sharp nailed fingertips pressed together in a sort of triangular fashion as his glassy midnight eyes scanned her intriguingly. Life in the new world would not be all bad, yet still he knew she abhorred the fate of being snatched away from their true home.

"Things will be very different in this new land." The magical monster stated abruptly, his usually trilling timbre low and contemplative. Leaning back rigidly he narrowed his icy ebony gaze as though peering past her to some life beyond and the future events to take place. "I will not look the same as I do here. In fact I do not know what we all may look like. You, I, and Regina will retain our memories of this land, but no one else, I think; at least no one else with no type of magic and no threat to us." A muscle twitched slightly in his jaw at her uncaring of the proclamation.

After her begging and pleading and trying to reason with him not to allot the witch the curse to ferry them all into a new realm simply for vengeances sakes she had finally calmed on the last day and relinquished her reasoning for his to stop such madness. Now she seemed gravely resigned like those who knew deaths skeleton grip was near to snatching their souls into the realms of eternal twilight and let it molest them without protest.

He flinched at the silence floating about them, but hid it behind a sharp, steely glare.

Dabbing his dry lips with an even dryer tongue once more, he forced himself to continue and not be daunted by her quiet acceptance, nor the guilt welling in his corrupted heart. Pity washed over him for his diligent slave. He couldn't really blame her for being upset. Not only had he taken her into a life of thralldom away from her father, and her fiancé, he was now spiriting her away to a world where a handful would know the truth.

"Your father will be there. He will be alive and safe and have means for a life and a steady living." Rumpelstiltskin added quietly trying to assuage her melancholy and perhaps bring a smile to her features with the little bit of assurance to placate her.

She hadn't smiled for the last three days since she learned of his plot and what he had given Regina. A part of him feared she would never bestow that lovely grin that made his day just a little brighter ever again.

At that, the dutiful servant swiveled her head away from the view of the jagged peaks shadowed softly with mulled twilight growing steadier ever moment to sprawl in a blanket of ebony upon the unsuspecting world. A ghost of a smile briefly dashed upon her lips before falling away quicker than it had come.

"Thank you." She replied gratefully with a faint incline of her head before turning back to drink in the last image she would have of home.

It would have been a magnanimously glorious instance to view the very last golden rays retreating behind the perilous peaks, only she was met with the darkness of her master's powerful curse speeding towards them.

In favor of the lovely sun set, dark purple clouds crawled over the rambling mountains with a dark sickly air. Instantly the sky turned from its startling blue to a leaden lilac hue blotting out the firmament with its vile, curdled vapors.

A sound like close thunder, or a rabid wolf snarling, growled out from the lofty heavens as the malignant miasma of purple tumbled down the mountains akin to liquid from an over boiling witches cauldron running down its stone sides.

The sun was swallowed up in the thick mist of lavender and the mountains, once so grand and tall and magnificent beacons of the world, swathed with danger and mystery, were enveloped and vanished in the cowl of repugnant plum tint never to be seen again. It was as though the breath of death itself was misting the world.

To Belle it seemed like the shroud of purple apprehended all hope from the depths of her heart; banishing it like they to were about to be banished from their lands for all eternity.

Scrambling frantically from the window seat, the frightened beauty slowly backed away from the monolithic panes and the horrible storm headed straight for the mottled gray stone of the Dark Castle. Even the cold granite trembled at its coming, making the ominous palace seem like a peasant's unsteady hovel in the wake of a gale.

Fire flickered crazily in their sconces and tongues of flame bickered and guttered nervously as though the very elements themselves could feel the change and the magic stealing over every inch of the world.

Unable to pry her mist blue eyes away from the evil drawing closer, ever closer, to drown them in its waves of unadulterated malice, she fought the panic bubbling inside her with every last shred of will still retained in her agonizingly small form. Even a giant would be uneasy to see such a tsunami of magic barreling towards them.

The burgundy curtains whipped like banners upon the storms air, and little stalks of wheat colored straw left over near his ancient spinners wheel tumbled away into cleaned corners. It seemed as though the entire world was not only being eaten by the gluttonous power, but being blown away as well.

She only stopped backing away when she ran into the wiry form of the Dark One. The magical monster now stood behind her gazing with a sinisterly proud glint in his bottomless, voided ebony orbs. He stood stoically and unmoving like a jutting pinnacle in a raging sea, keeping her from being taken away by the wind.

Straggly brown hair fluttered with the noxious winds of magic giving him a beastly appearance as he stared manically at the purple undulating clouds hurtling their way.

His dexterous claws wrapped over her upper arm firmly, keeping her in place as they both watched with wide eyes the magic rushing over the land and ravenously swallowing everything in its all consuming path.

There were always legends of how the realms would be ended whispered to frighten children or warnings for the elder generations. Stories of wrathful deities clashing against the realms, nature turning violent and the world being drowned by fire and earth quakes and gaping chasms swallowing the earth.

Ironically, with the last scant cognitive comprehension she still retained in her numbed mind, she had the best view of their end charging upon them.

Magic wafted heavily through the air akin to acrid smoke that forced itself down the beauty's throat clogging her lungs and pulling at the very intangible fibers of her soul. The eerie feel of spider webs just barely skimming across her flesh made shivers uncontrollably tromp up and down her spine as the Dark One gripped her close, almost protectively, to shield her from any ill harm.

Her heart thudded uncontrollably against her chest as the end crawled nearer and nearer. Blood raced rapidly through her veins, making her head swim and stomach roil in anxiousness and fear. In some ways, despite despising what he had done to bring forth such a curse, she was thankful that he was so near; keeping her safe in his owning grasp. At least being his to own, she could assure herself no harm would befall her wherever they were to dwell and dub home. Rumpelstiltskin never let anything terrible happen to his property of course.

Hot breath whispered viciously against her ear as his final words in their true home drifted possessively into her mind and soul. Though the wind wailed and screamed like specters in their ghastly shrieks bellowing deafeningly about them, she could comprehend every low murmured word from his lips that were quirked in a devious, feral grin. "Remember, Belle, while this is a new land our deal is not terminated. I will not have magic but I will still possess you. Never forget, you belong to me now and forever."

Even as the last word hissed from his thin gray lips the power of the magical storm hit them with all its corrupted fury. Glass shattered about them as the world became nothing more than an undulating mass off eternal blackness in a bottomless gorge. She tried to clutch at her master, as an anchor, but only swatted at heavy layers of magic wafting through the air.

Terrified, Belle wrenched open her mouth to scream at the sheer deluge of power dousing her form and ripping her away, but only inhaled thick darkness as her world tumbled into nothingness…

~8~8~

The russet haired beauty groaned groggily as she awakened with warm morning sun obliquely slipping through closed light blue curtains shining upon her porcelain features. She felt the firmness of a comfortable mattress under her slightly aching form, but how had she arrived there, and why had Rumpelstiltskin opted to allot her a bed and not a pile of hay on a dungeon floor?

The annals of her mind lay obfuscate and vaugly veiled as though sheer, gauzy silk was covering it, or cobwebs had layered over old memories like dust upon an attic chest. She knew what they were, but there was vast new information thronging in her mind as well as overlapping the old thoughts or combining them in some joint recognition.

She knew her name was Belle, but if someone called her Annabelle or Anna it felt natural to reply to that as well. Her papa's noble moniker was Maurice, yet if she wrote a letter it would be penned to Moe.

Somewhere in her room, or so her mind told her, an alarm clock buzzed incessantly to let her know it was time to get up. Part of her knew precisely what an alarm clock was, and yet the other half was intrigued and mildly confused at such a contraption that was akin to a great grandfather clock like there had been in the Dark Castle.

Lines wrinkled her furrowed brow as she sat up upon her elbows and eased open her azure eyes to look upon a whole new world that she knew of thoroughly, but also knew was not her own.


	2. First Day

_A/N: Thanks for all the spectacular reviews you wonderful people! _

**~8~8~**

Steam hissed a warningly low tweeting whistle in the eggshell blue ceramic kettle just as Belle finished nervously descending the stairs.

Navy blue flats, unlike the cheery bright azure shoes given to her in the Dark Castle, barely made a soft thump upon the wooden floor in her wary, exploratory trek of the house she should have known and yet knew was completely foreign. Everything was a novelty from the light fixtures to the radio in her alarm clock which she was absolutely mystified over.

After letting her senses align and readjust to the new land which did not feel new at all she slipped into and gray and black crisscrossed, sleveless dress that fell to her knees. The lovely young beauty had come across the modest dress whilst rummaging through the wardrobe for somthing decent to clothe herself in for the day. Such garb looked alien to her senses that were still used to floor length raiment and tunics and breeches, and yet she liked it.

Yes, it was her choice to don before deciding to journey through the home half her mind told her she should have already known intimately.

After dressing and finding the washroom, she began her exploration through the home, which lead her to the kitchen.

The kitchen or what had once been the larder in the Dark Castle looked very different, though in a way it looked just as it once did.

A small rather homey oval chestnut table sat in the very center of the room with a few flowers drooping slightly in a pink vase. Stainless steel appliances, both amazing and useful sat in their niches between the dark wood cabinets and the cupboards housing dried goods and clean cutlery.

Two French glass doors, draped with thin azure curtains, opened up to a path of gray flagstones winding somewhere behind the house.

Slowly inching into the room, Belle stared in wonderment of it all, her mind trying to fathom at least a hint of how such creations were made, or worked without the aid of magic.

"About time you awakened, Dearie." A familiar and yet foreign voice resounded from behind nearly making her jump in alarm. The accent was a tad exotic to her and yet one she readily placed.

Dull thuds emenated slowly from behind like some dangerous creatures with a slight injury preying upon her and waiting for the perfect moment to lunge. The hairs on the back of her neck and arms prickled upon their ends as she felt cold eyes pinioned upon her possessively.

With a brave, stout will suppressing her nervousness the beauty turned about slowly to face her master. If she was to live the rest of eternity with him, she needed to become used to his piercing stare, the lovely servant assured herself inwardly to bolster her wavering courage.

All thoughts of nervousness about her master dissipated as she looked upon him in abject shock. Her stunning cobalt eyes bulged with wonderment at his transformation from monster to man.

The Dark One looked different to say the least! No longer did he possess scaly gray-gold flesh that glittered like diamonds in fire and sun light, but instead normal slightly pallid skin. The high pitched falsetto and trill in his voice was replaced with an accent she found likable. Light brown hair fell a trifle longer than what most men wore it, and yet it became him in his own odd fashion.

A cane was now planted beside him on his left side which he leaned heavily upon. His left hand gripped the golden handle forged in the shape of a hawks rending beak, telling the beauty it was for use rather than extravagant ornament.

For the short time Belle had known her master, she witnessed him garb himself in the most gaudy of clothing looking akin to a mad jester with a penchant for tight, dark leather and dragon hide wear. Now he donned a dark pinstripe suit and mulled ruby tie looking very crisp without a seam out of place.

"It's not polite to gawk, Dearie." The magical fiend reprimanded and allowed a small chuckle to escape his lips, but it was bereft of its normal impish cackle. He flourished his free hand through the warm air. "I may have lost my debonair looks, but rest assured I am the same."

The beauty shook her russet curls as though coming out of a trance, for indeed it all seemed like a dream. Tilting her head down slightly she nodded to mask the pink tint that rose embarrassedly to her cheeks. "Forgive me; it's just a bit too much to take in all at once, Master."

Behind them the kettle upon the stove began to trill higher in its tune. The sound of boiling water rumbled faintly foretelling its readiness. Steam billowed copiously out of the spout alerting the pair it was ready to be used for tea.

Rumpelstiltskin limped lethargically to a chair, not caring about the hissing pot in the slightest. A pained grimace wrenched upon his weathered face as he eased down gently into his seat.

His free hand massaged his knee in small circles as though trying to relieve the agonizing misery lancing through the maimed limb.

There was vast pain there; she knew perceptively, a pain that had not bothered him in the Dark Castle. Part of her supposed it was perhaps his penance for allotting Regina the curse or was it something deeper?

Arching a brow slightly he stared at her simply standing in an entwined mixture of awe and curiosity in the middle of his kitchen. It must have been difficult for her trying to adjust and conform with two different worlds in her mind or so he surmised.

A small smile twitched upon the very border of his lips as he proffered his hand to the stove. "While there are many dazzling wonders in this land, Belle, tea nor breakfast will magically make itself."

"R-right. Sorry, Rum." The beauty stammered lamely, her mind forcing her to move on some instinct that amazed her. Yesterday she knew nothing of the new land or its devices and now she could instantly put a name to every item with only a little trouble.

Padding over to a white and blue striped porcelain cookie jar she quickly opened it and nabbed two tea packets. Happy that at least she was getting the hang of using her new thoughts without to much hassle, the lovely beauty began to search for cups. While one memory told her where they could have been, her true memory was conflicting with her making thing tougher as she sought basic utensils.

"Part of my thoughts tells me you are dressed up for something." Belle commented nervously in attempts to settle her roiling soul with the ease of driveling chatter to spirit her mind away from the cornucopia of thoughts spiraling about her head.

Rum nodded slowly, his face an unreadable mask behind the normal weathered skin of a human once more. "I own a shop in this land." He supplied easily though he had never before taken a step into such an establishment." It is a place where I make deals and sell goods in exchange for other trinkets. I'll be there on most days, not including weekends and back every night around five or six in the evening."

Planting his gold tipped cane between his legs, both hands curled over the handle like talons as the conniving monster watched his dutiful slave intensely; his mind involuntarily wandering. Despite all plans going accordingly, the fact still bothered him that for the next 28 years he would be without magic. Such time would be plenty for her to no doubt scheme a successful escape to be free from the clutches of her evil master.

For centuries he had formulated many plans and back up plots should things go amiss, but for his slave? He sneered inwardly at himself, cursing his foolish whims as his hands clamped tighter over the golden hawk handle in a vice.

Truth be told, Belle had been a spur of the moment indulgence on his part. Before he ventured from the Dark Castle that fateful day there had been no plan to procure any deal and yet that night he had returned home with a princess of some back realm kingdom, now his slave girl, who bravely traded her life, her very freedom, to him. And now…now he could think of no way to let her go. Belle, of course, had her uses, but possessing her was too much of a risk to let her ramble; her mind filled with truth and a few of his secrets.

Yes, procuring her had most definatly been a misstep; one he could not go back on. She was far too dangerous to let loose in the small town they now called home, meaning he simply had to deal with her.

"Let's make a few things clear here and now, Dearie." The magical monster glared darkly at her as she precociously handed him a steaming dark colored mug of tea. It was not his usual cup, and in his mind he made a mental note to order her to locate his chipped trinket for use.

Taking a tentative sip of the rich, heady brew he continued dangerously. "Your duties have not been altered, nor will they be. As specified before you will tend to your regular chores with the last day of the week as your own to do with as you see fit. You will never leave the confines of the house least I give you permission. No matter what your memories tell you or how this world is I am still your master."

Sliding into her seat on the opposite side of the table, Belle curled his finger about the warm mug. Hurt flashed in her cobalt orbs at his declaration. After those few months she was his slave did he still not trust her?

Looking down into the rippling brown liquid, she sighed deeply, her shoulders drooping lugubriously. "I know our deal, Rumpelstiltskin. I will not attempt to flee, you have my word."

"Your word is nothing to me." He scoffed callously and nursed another long draught of the strong, dark tea. Cruelty burned like hot crimson embers in his chestnut depths as his gaze narrowed upon her threateningly. "But I do not expect you to flee. If you do, dire consequences shall be swift and merciless; that is a promise."

Blood drained fearfully from Belle's lovely, yet morose features towards his admittance. Something akin to terror twirled in her belly as she forced herself to avert her azure eyes. Her throat felt dry despite the warm tea as fear crept upon her stoic heart. "You…you mean you'll kill me?"

"Not at all." The Dark One smiled thinly, his body practically radiating malice. "I do not break what I own, Belle; you've toiled for me long enough to at least surmise that. No…" He paused and hunched over the table, every word deadly serious. "If you run I will harm those you love. I will run your father into the ground; I will decimate any and everyone you've ever cared for. Their blood will be on your head. In this world I am an extremely wealthy man who controls most business in this shabby little town. Try to flee and I will make certain your father is stripped of everything he owns and is left to die on the streets a sick, crazy old man with nothing."

Silence reigned for a breathless moment as he let the words sink in before continuing in a low growl. "If that is not enough when I locate you I shall toss you into the insane asylum forever where all you'll ever see is four gray padded walls if I am feeling generous. Do not disobey or you shall wish you had run. Are we clear?"

Belle nodded tremulously; what more could she do in the face of such snarling threats? "Yes master."

Flicking his hand dismissingly in her direction, his attitude lightened as though he had not just threatened all she held dear. "Enough with that. Here my name is Ray or Mr. Gold if you prefer."

"Ray Gold." Belle tested the name sparingly upon her tongue as though it were some expensive wine. A hard fought grin played upon her beautiful face as she drained the last dregs of the tea. "I quite like that name."

Hiding a smile behind the rim of his cup, the magical fiend suppressed a glimmer of pleasure that she approved of the name. But why? Why did he garner a bit f enjoyment at her little fancy's?

"My name is Annabelle in this strange world." The lovely beauty remarked, simply to have something to say and rid her throat of the last remnants fear at his threats lodged in her esophagus and the shadows of her heart.

Rum allowed a small chuckle to slip from his throat. Leaning back in the wooden chair he regarded her curiously making a bit of fire mount in her cheeks though she could not tell why. Perhaps it was simply the fact that he was intimidating, but whenever he stared at her in that peculiar fashion she found fire tinting her cheeks in a merry glow.

Rum shrugged languidly as though her name was of no concern. "I know what it is, but I like Belle. It becomes you far better than Annabelle. No, you shall still be Belle."

For a moment she was taken aback that he had decided to keep calling her Belle. Names were valuable, as he sometimes said, which begged the question while he chose to keep calling her by his old name when he wished to be regarded in this land as Ray Gold.

He cleared his throat politely, nearly kindly, making her rouse from her inward train of thought meandering down its track of contemplation.

Pointing to the fridge with his ash wood cane he peered at her with a hint of amusement shadowing his human features. "Breakfast if you please, then you can start working on cleaning while I am gone for the day."

"Of course, master." Belle replied obediently.

Rising from her chair she forced her considerations into the back of her mind till a later moment when she could safety land from the whirlwind of it all.

Opening the fridge for the first time in search of eggs, Belle allowed her mind to focus on bacon, toast, eggs, and another cup of tea for the time being to sooth her owner.

Once settled and secure with thier new land, she hoped, she could figure out what her life would entail in their strange new world, living in a strange home, all with a strange master.


	3. Discoveries and Kindness

_A/N: Yay for quick updates! Thanks for reading and reviewing, amigos! Cake for everyone. :3 If you like pie just leave now...(Just kidding)._

**~8~8~**

"I wonder what this does?" Belle murmured curiously for what felt like the thousandth time that day.

Tilting her head slightly to the left, her brow knit in delicate wrinkles of confusion whilst she fiddled with an oblong, black device strewn with numbered buttons and arrow heads. Whenever she pressed the top, uppermost, button the wide, thin contraption in the living room facing the couch would spring to life with dazzling light and sound and tiny people inside, and when she pressed it again they would disappear and the glass would blink and go dark like some seers crystal orb.

It was only one of many devices that were utterly mind boggling to the lovely beauty. Being the insatiably curious woman that she was and living in a dwelling with all sorts of new curios mingled with her masters interesting hoard of objects from the Dark Castle, every moment left her constantly veering off track from her cleaning. She attempted to stifle her wanderings with a stout will, yet she was a infamously curious woman with a temptation for discovery.

At least she wasn't the only one adjusting, the gorgeous beauty considered inwardly. A smile came unbidden to her lips as she remembered peeking out the blue and white checkered window drapes in the kitchen to watch her master take off for his work.

The black monstrosity sitting in the driveway akin to some sort of sleek ebony carriage with a steel carapace was his means of transportation. Though he did not see her, or at least she surmised he didn't, he spent a good ten minutes trying to figure out how to work such a dangerous looking device.

Belle couldn't help but chuckle in recalling clearly how frighteningly the engine revved to life and bellowed like a dragon's furious roar. After getting over her mild terror, her heart still racing, she peeped out one last time to witness the machine in motion.

With her master at the helm, or dictating its movements the machine rolled away in an unsure stop and go pace till it seemed as though thoughts of this world took over his mind to let him drive efficiently.

In some ways it was nice to see him having a few adjusting problems like she, Belle admitted to her inner most thoughts. Trepidation made his human guise appear more real; more flawed like they all were. In the Dark Castle there was not one instance she saw him anything less than all controlling and on point; now she found his odd blunderings…amusing.

In the hours he was gone, the day went by in a whirlwind of new discoveries and novelties to be unearthed. Already she had mastered the vacuum, the lights fixtures of every type, shower, and radio all in the swiftly passing day he was absent. Now there was only one problem she could not tackle.

Dourly, Belles' bright indigo eyes scanned the room she should have cleaned long hours ago with the other two on the other side of the hall. Dust layered thickly on all his items and packed trinkets. Huge white sheets covered every inch of treasures and prizes in large cardboard boxes as though when they moved they never unpacked.

The only thing that was clean was the one carpet in the room she stood in and only that was due to the fun of the vacuum before another curiosity had coaxed her away with its oddness begging her to uncover their use.

Before she could decide on a recourse, tires rolled into the drive way making Belle's heart leap like a doe being pursued by hunters. Blood drained from her lovely features as she jerked her head frantically to the clock nailed up to the wall. To her horror the hands pointed directly at the five and the twelve.

Had she really squandered the entire day lost in exploration?

Terror washed over her like a high wave to engulf her senses and pull her out into a sea of panic. Belle chewed at her bottom lip nervously, her azure eyes riveted upon the clock, the tell-tale testament of her troubles. When he came in he would see she had done very little, and then what? Punish her? Ruin her papa?

Swallowing hard, the lovely beauty fought tenaciously to restrain panic coiling inside her belly and ready to be set free like a fire cracker. Running a hand through her thick, russet mane, she tried to take a deep breath and organize her whirling contemplations, yet the only thoughts she could register were his threats so dangerously dictated to her that morning.

Her shoulders heaved in a heavy sigh. "He's going to kill me for this." She finally mumbled worriedly under her breath.

"Belle." His heavy accented voice echoed around the lonely house all too quickly for her liking.

The door banged just behind him, making her jump in sudden fear.

His cane tapped in a dull tempo with his steps as he strode through his home slowly as though inspecting how her progress had come along.

Everything looked the same, she knew, save for the few dishes at breakfast she washed. A wavering breath departed from her lips as she panicked and hurriedly stashed the odd contraption in her grip under the cushions to the leather sofa as though it were some illegal paraphernalia.

Mulled thuds of his cane drew nearer, with every so often a pause as though he were looking at her toils and seeing nothing had been accomplished in over a string of hours.

Steeling herself bravely she squared her shoulders and prepared for his wrath. "In here." The lovely beauty answered, though a tremor quivered in her tone.

She wrung her hands nervously, her mind unable to shake the habit. No, he would not be pleased at all to see just how little she had done in the hours that seemed to fly by. Even though she was not facing the wide entryway to the living room, she felt his dangerous presence shift inside like a malignant shade creeping into a sun drenched chamber. Her nerves trembled in trepidation as she waited for her masters snapping words to admonish her lack in labor.

Before he could form a word, Belle's mouth began to move in stumbling to explain. "I'm so sorry the work is not done." She felt her words tripping over one another stupidly. "Every time I began something else sidetracked me. It's no excuse, but…"

"Belle." Rum interrupted calmly and perhaps with a touch of amusement flitting his tone.

Turning about slowly, Belle clasped her hands together in front of her ready to take the bombardment of punishment and yelling.

The fiend shook his head slightly, his mouth twisting in a faint smile. "My dear, inept Belle." Gold chuckled fondly. "Of all the slaves I could have chosen I plucked up a ravenously curious one."

The beauty flushed deeply. "I'm sorry master, it jus-"

"Don't apologize." The Dark One interrupted evenly and patted his hand in the air to silence her. "We will be here forever, there is no need to rush Take your time, explore your new home. I may be a hard master, but not an unreasonable one."

Belle stared down at her flats and the red and black knotted Persian rug unable to meet his gaze. Relief flooded her senses like warmth on a cold day. At least he was in a good humor, and not surly enough to snap at her shirked duites.

Though he seemed in an understandable mood, in some ways she felt as though she were not living up to their bargain. "The way you sounded this morning…I just feared perhaps my father could be in peril if I do not adhere to your orders quickly."

Did she think him so cruel to relentlessly demand from her without making allowances of clemency? A frown dashed across his lips at the thought. Perhaps she truly did think such, and he was fully to blame, Rum knew without a hint of doubt. Not simply did she fear him but also the double heap of fear he instilled in her with his growling threats of doom and torment.

This morning, though he would never admit to such, he had been terrified of what would occur if he left for his shop and she ran to freedom. Every word was spoken in deep panicked terror so that she would be far too frightened to even consider the notion of fleeing.

Even when he returned, and his sleek black car slid into the drive, he feared she would be long gone, or worse, with whatever goods she could carry stuffed into a suitcase and find a way to dodge him for 28 years. Now with her still there, a bit of assurance soothed his panic like the comfort of light pattering rain on a blistering hot day.

Rum stared at her fondly, his will trying to fight a large grin. His assiduous slave girl was loyal and honorable to a degree that made the Dark One have a twinge of shame he doubted her so.

"Follow me, Belle." Rum ordered abruptly, his hand beckoning her to him.

The russet haired beauty could not mask a flinch or the terror that shrouded her features. Did he still think she needed to be taught a lesson for not getting her chores done in a prompt manner? Stifling her fear bubbling inside she nodded obediently and trailed his slow gait patiently.

"Are…are you taking me to the dungeon?" She broached cautiously.

The magical monster's brow furrowed as they trekked through the dust filled home. He shook his head, his mouth curving into a wry smile. "There is no dungeon in this world. Though I dare say if you get to out of control, I shall have to lock you in the basement and chain you to the washing machine."

To his surprise, the lovely beauty giggled slightly at his morbid jest concerning her captivity. At times she did crack a smile at a quip or two, though heaven only knew what humor she could possibly see in his jokes. Did she know them merely to be that, little touches of hilarity in his dangerous air?

"Here we are." He announced briskly to mask the faint bit of glee that bloomed like a field of windflowers after a summer storm inside his dark heart. Her very laugh could make the shriveled black husk in his chest involuntarily jerk with delight.

Stopping at two more lovely French doors that mirrored the ones in the kitchen, he slipped a key from his suit pocket and into their lock. After a small click echoed from the lock, the Dark One pushed open the doors easily revealing the back yard to his monolithic home.

Belle gasped in surprise at the wide space sprawled before her. Greenery was neatly traced in in a rectangular fashion by a wall-high redwood fence. A gate strapped with black bands sat at the very back, but had a chain about the dark iron handle.

A few flowers lay withered in the ground bereft of water, and one towering maple tree sat wedged in the right corner with a dilapidated, once orange, paint peeled birdhouse swinging abandoned upon one of the lower boughs.

Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, the devious Dark One scuffed his cane against the wooden floor where it met the threshold. "Perhaps I sounded a bit too strict this morning." He admitted in a murmur. "Certainly when I said you may never leave the house I did not mean it to that extensive degree." He proffered his hand to the yard with a bit of pride. "You may tread here freely so long as your chores are at an end. Do not try to scale the fence or open the gate and the place is yours to enjoy or use. Remember, Belle, I do reward diligence."

Inwardly though, Rumpelstiltskin knew that was not all in his reasoning to allot her the back yard. He did not wish to see her a pallid, miserable phantasm wandering about his home with no contact to the sun and elements of their new land.

He had denied her the right to go outside in the Dark Castle, mainly because it was so gargantuan, she could spend a life time inside and never penetrate all its secrets. Here, however, he desired her a little more freedom which in turn would perchance allow him a few more smiles graced and bestowed from her lovely lips.

"I…I…" Belle gazed in awe at the bright late afternoon cascading the back yard with warm. Choking back her emotions she nodded slightly to her master, her cobalt orbs glimmering with tears. "Thank you Ru…" She tried to say, but he was already limping vapidly back into the dimness of the salmon pink manse.

Had she caught up with him, the lovely beauty would have noticed the bashful slight pink that matched the shade of his extensive home burnished upon his cheeks.

~8~8~

Dinner, unlike the days cleaning, was a rather shining success, Belle thought proudly.

Red sauce bubbled and simmered in noodles along with rolled hunks of meat all cooking together in one steel cook pot, rather than the huge cast iron cauldrons of the Dark Castle. The spicy aroma of oregano and thyme and tomatoes was absolutely mouth watering to the beauty who found cooking, despite her noble heritage, and easy and enjoyable task.

Some of her enjoyment probably stemmed from not eating the entire day save a few bites of buttered toast and a forkful of eggs, she considered for a moment then returned to focus upon the meal.

To the side a wooden bowl filled with freshly washed, bright green lettuce and sliced ruby red tomatoes she plundered from the fridge sat ready to be distributed into plates and tea sat close to the stove to keep warm.

Sparing a test taste of the bright crimson sauce, their first true meal ever cooked in their new world, a smile wove over the beauty's porcelain feature approvingly. A hum of happiness at the success of the dish nearly burst from her lush pink lips as she took it off the eye and dashed about for a few more plates and a pinch of salt.

"Well, well, for once something you're cooking actually smells delicious." Rum sniffed the fragrant air pleasantly taking in the scents of a true home cooked meal as he stalked in quieter than a shadows breath.

Belle offered him a mock disapproving frown as she doled out the steaming meal into bowls. "I have to wonder how you survived before I started cooking for you." She had never seen him cook or even go remotely near the kitchen in the Dark Castle. Perhaps he had conjured his food, but Belle knew magically conjured nourishment was rumored as tasteless and bereft of the filling feeling.

He grinned mischievously as he eased down into a seat. "The answer is simple enough, Dearie; the beating hearts of maidens fair are actually very filling and rather tasty."

At that, the russet haired beauty crinkled her nose in distaste, though her azure eyes glinted merrily. Many of his quips, though she knew she shouldn't find funny struck her sometimes as amusing.

Brining his meal to the table she smiled teasingly and perhaps with a faint glimmer of fondness. "Well, be that as it may, no hearts tonight. We're eating spaghetti and meatballs; I think it's called."

Though the magical monster couldn't very well say he approved of the looks of the slimy dish all coated in red sauce, it did smell scrumptiously appetizing. Stabbing his fork in the center he began to twirl before noticing she had not sat down.

"Going to eat, Dearie, or merely watch to see if the poison you put in worked?" He asked in half seriousness half jesting. Part of him knew she wouldn't dare try to poison him, not with the chance he could survive and exact horrid revenge, and if she did...

Dusky crimson flared through her cheeks. "Oh um…it's just that we never ate together in the Dark Castle and since you do not have a main hall here to take your meals I thought I could wait later."

Slaves, of course, did not partake of meals with their masters. In the few months she'd toiled in the Dark Castle, he would always eat in the main hall, and she in the kitchen. Sometimes they shared tea on those quiet days in the Dark Castle when he was not rambling about the realms to make mischief, but those were few and far between.

"Nonsense." Grumbled Rum, his mouth stuffed with pasta. Not only did the food smell fantastic, it was delectable. Motioning to the chair she had taken in the morning he beckoned her to sit. After swallowing an abhorrently filled mouth brimming with food, her stared at her with a touch of annoyance. "Things are different here, and furthermore, I never cared if you shared your meals with me or not. Have a seat and eat."

For a brief moment in the space of time, Belle stood still, her mind working over what he stated so easily. She had always assumed he wanted to keep the border between master and slave, now he was allowing some form of togetherness.

Slowly she took out the warm plate reserved for herself and sunk down into her own seat.

Abruptly awkwardness filled the room like the tantalizing array of smells from the spaghetti. In those scant months as master and slave never had they dined together.

Rum's head remained downcast as he toyed and plucked at the meal with his fork. At that moment, though part of her utterly starving, Belle couldn't say she possessed an appetite as well.

With a brave will she forced herself to lift her fork and begin to eat. Clearing her throat nervously, she dared spare a glance his way.

Anxiousness crackled off the Dark One like lightening as though he were nervous about her presence as much as she was wary of his. Pasta and meatballs lay scattered upon his plate, but not really touched with the same gusto of a few moments before.

"So…" Belle spun a forkful of pasta; happy for the distraction. "How was…how was your day?"

It wasn't much of a question, but perhaps a beginning to ease the sudden tension and anxiousness draped upon them.

Rum tilted his head up slightly at the inquiry. Surprise, but a tinge of pleasure marbled upon his face as he shrugged nonchalantly and, almost shyly, related his own adventures at his pawn shop.

Belle grinned through a mouthful of salad, her appetite returning in leaps and bounds, as well as his own, while they talked tenuously over dinner.

**~8~8~**

_A/N: __**Evil queen alert! I repeat evil queen alert. Panic time people. You, Yes, YOU, panic! All crews into positions! Man the cannons! Stay low! Get into your shelters NOW! Hide yo kids hide yo huntsmans. Regina will be gracing us with her presence next chapter. *Runs for cover*.**_


	4. Dropping By

_A/N: Thanks so much for reading and reviewing, Lovelies!_

**~8~8~**

Hordes of gray dust motes drifted precariously about a lovely decorated guest room of Rumpelstiltskin's large home. Speckles of grime mottled the golden slants of light that managed to slip through the drawn, heavy curtains like little dancing people before falling away into obscurity.

Belle sneezed intermittently at the thick billows of dust wafting about her. Filth felt as though it clogged her throat and her eyes seemed enameled with gray grime. Waving her hand to paw at the grand plumes of dust, unearthed by her curious rumaging, she scrambled away from the room; her body racked with heavy coughs.

Racing into the neatly cleaned kitchen the beauty pressed against the locked door leading down the drive and inhaled fresh air greedily. Being away from all the filth felt as though breaking the surface of water for precious air filling strained lungs.

"You would think, that we lived here for thousands years rather than a few months." She wheezed in a nasally rasp.

A twisted grimace crept unbidden to her face as her lungs hacked up the rest of the dust from the attack of bedded filth. At least when her master related his plan to her back in the Dark Castle she expected more from the strange new land they were abducted too in lieu of more dust and knick-knacks to peruse and keep tidy.

Instead, they had quickly fallen back into an abhorrently routine way of life. She would rise with the charcoal gray light of dawn tinting the sky, make breakfast for her and the Dark One, and then he would travel to work leaving her to clean and explore. After the hours trudged past he rolled back into the drive, ate supper, mostly worked in his second floor study and that would be their day.

The only variance from the hair yanking monotony was Sunday when she didn't toil away at the legion of dust in the rarely ventured rooms or days he took off from manning his shop. But even then her master's appearances in his days off were rare and few and far between; like today. After lunch he had retired to his study and she hadn't seen him since.

No, he preferred to hunker down and sequester himself in his large, warm study; content to disregard another living being in the house.

Swiping a cobweb from her russet mane Belle couldn't help but let another dour frown pull at her lips. Some days, the beauty didn't even think he even saw her as a person, only a thing meant to work and serve. Her master rarely spoke to her unless she began a conversation, and only when he felt in the mood to exchange words.

Part of her was beginning to feel more aloof from him than in the drafty, dank corridors of the Dark Castle. It was like they lived in two separate houses.

A knock on the back door, shattered the lovely beauty's rambling thought abruptly. A yelp of surprise nearly burst from her lips, but she bit it back with a firm will as she stealthily skittered away from the door.

How her heart hammered against her bosom! Each bang of the door pounded like a thud of her rapidly fluttering heart.

Behind the lattice of blue and white curtains, a shade of trim, prim figure stood there expectantly. It was the first time some one had come up to his door; the first time she had actually seen another person up close in months in favor of watching men and women stroll down the sidewalk oblivious to the curse that had spun their lives into a web of deceits.

Throwing all caution and care to the wind, even with a slight inkling of heavy dread her master would be probably less than pleased with her answering the door, Belle eagerly fiddled with the bronze knob until the portal swung agape.

Her smile, once bright and beaming, ready to accept the guest, slipped away like sun melting autumn frost.

Regina's ruby painted lips curled in a devious smile as her glimmering jade eyes narrowed deviously upon the slightly ruffled beauty. Feigned happiness veiled her pallid features like an ill fitting mask that could fall at any instance should the mood strike her to abandon her ridiculous pretense of politeness.

"Annabelle French what a surprise to see you here." The Madame Mayor lied expertly, her timbre imitating shock and pleasure like running into an old friend.

She was the evil queen, Belle recognized immediately. Her silky raven hair was cut short in this new world and all the sordid black lace and midnight pearls were replaced with a sharp pinstripe business woman skirt, but there was no getting rid of the evil aura radiating from her flesh like a fetid stench off a rotting ogre carcass.

Before her was the woman who enacted the repugnant curse, who schemed with the Dark One, and was renowned for cruelty; Regina, the evil queen.

Even in the Dark Castle when the vile sorceress had stopped by to pay her master visits and bargain for a few baubles or elixirs here and there, Belle always felt uncomfortable with the pallid witch tromping about. Most of the time the wary beauty tried not to turn her back on the ruthless monarch; fearful a dagger would be lodged in between her shoulder blades should she let her guard down about the sinister queen at any instance.

All the other times she was not trying to tiptoe around the brazenly dangerous royal, Belle was attempting to shake off the steely looks of condescension. Yes, the beauty knew very well she was a servant and her life was not her own, but Regina had a way of making it feel shameful and obvious with every disgusted sneer and cool glare.

"Ah Regina there you are." Rumpelstiltskin's voice greeted dryly from behind the frightened beauty nearly making Belle sigh in relief at his sudden presence.

The light thud of his cane padded vapidly down the stairs in a languorous tattoo as the business appeared in the kitchen. He was still dressed sharply, even while in his own home, but the jacket to his suit was missing revealing the dark red shirt the same color as old blood.

The cunning witch arched a thinly plucked brow incredulously, but did not take her burrowing glare off the nervous Belle. "Does she know?" Regina's lips twisted into a sardonic half smile.

"Of course she does." Rumpel snorted derisively at the foolish question as he limped nearer. "I think it would be rather difficult to transact business in front of a woman who does not also recall we are from a different land." He grinned furtively. "She might think us mad."

Regina shrugged in tactful carelessness, her curiosity temporarily assuaged with the knowledge she did not have to watch every word. "Fair enough, Mr. Gold. Now, about what we discussed over the phone."

Rumpelstiltskin nodded tersely. "Of course, we can chat about all the details. But first." Pausing, he turned to the beauty and nudged his head to the stove. "I'd hate to be an ungracious host. Could I trouble you to put a pot of tea on, Belle?"

He wasn't truly asking, that was blatantly obvious by his low demanding tone, but Belle was more than grateful for the pretense of making it a decision rather than an outright order.

They nervous beauty only replied with a faint, obedient nod, and thankfully slipped away to fill the kettle. Any where out of Regina's general vicinity was a huge welcome to her senses and pride.

A thin, carnelian smile slithered upon Regina's ashen features as she took her time looking about the home of Mr. Gold. Her turquoise depths scanned for any chink in his armor even when it came to his physical residence. "Fancy place you've got here, Gold." She commended with a small, tittering chuckle. "I see our deal came out smoothly."

"They always do." He retorted crisply though there was a knowing smile tugging at the ends of his lips.

"You know I've never had much against you Gold." The Madame Mayor remarked easily, her words stained with lying malice. Her eyes flashed hatefully, though she kept her temperate composure. "I'm glad this change benefited us both."

"Indeed." Rumpelstiltskin agreed sagely and politely proffered her to a free chair in the kitchen.

Once they were seated, Rumpelstiltskin placed his ash wood cane between his legs and curled his hands about the hawk nosed handle in his usual fashion. Cocking his head every so slightly to the side, he regarded her intently, but not in a way that spoke of trying to garner some advantage. "Something tells me, you came over here for more than a simple celebratory chat of how smooth the curse is working, Majesty."

"Hardly." A scoff spurted from the sorceress' full lips in contempt. "No, as I was in my office down at city hall the thought struck me that I have nothing to do." Regina admitted austerely, not unaware of the irony of such an announcement.

Rumpel chuckled harshly as though her words were ridiculous blathering of a mad woman. "Nothing to do, majesty?" He flourished his hand to one of the opened windows. "You run the town. All decrees and petitions come directly to you. The last say shall always be yours, and you come to me and say that you are bored?"

The wicked monarch glared at him, her emerald eyes flashing with steel and hate. "Don't mock me, Gold. I know what I can do. But since this curse dictates forever by the first 100 years this business will be run-of-the-mill and tedious." She leaned forward conspiratorially, her words all but a whisper upon the wind. "I want something else, something that I have not done before to give me a new challenge and something…fulfilling."

"Well you could always try bingo at Winter's Retirement home." The Dark One teased cruelly. He did not laugh, but the amusement was plain upon his weathered features and crooked grin and eyes glimmering in evil merriment.

Before Regina could parry with a reply, Belle stepped in with two cups brimming with fresh brewed tea. Steam clashed with the slightly cool air as she placed them before the two most powerful people in Storybrooke and folded her hands in front of her. Taking a few steps back should they need to call her again, her eyes rested widely upon their exchange.

The vile sorceress sighed heavily as she insipidly stirred her drink. "You laugh now because you have a little _distraction_." Her teal eyes flickered to Belle laconically before falling back to Gold. "I on the other hand do not."

Fierce crimson dabbed Belle's porcelains cheeks at the implication of the words not spoken, yet still there. Did she truly assume Rumpelstiltskin was taking advantage of her in that way?

"Well what exactly do you want, Regina?" Gold queried impatiently. Taking a long pull of tea he smacked his lips happily, completely nonplused by the harpy's outrageous insinuation about him and Belle.

Just the way she inflected 'distraction' made his blood want to boil with righteous indignation, but he suppressed the urge staunchly in order to dealt with the matter at hand. His Belle was a slave, not his bed warmer. He would never order her to something such as that. While he may have been a monster stuffed into the flesh of a human once more, the Dark One was not that type of beast to take advantage of some one like Belle.

"I want something that Snow White and her prince were denied by this curse in their paltry attempt to stave off the inevitable." The mayor answered simply. Her ruby lips were drawn in one thin line as she stared at the irascible Mr. Gold. "A child, Mr. Gold, I want a child."

From the side, Belle gasped at the proclamation, her eyes wide in startled shock at such an admittance.

With a small smirk, Gold ignored his studious slave and shook his head in feigned forlornness. "Really now, majesty, you should have probably considered that before you enacted the curse. What child do you want exactly? There is no orphanage, all the children have parents, I cannot simply hop into a car and bring you one from Boston, and all the women who were pregnant in our old world shall remain so for eternity."

False humor and pleasantry drained from the evil witches face. A snarl twisted upon her glossy ruby lips as she banged a fist upon the table making the cups clatter. "Think of something." She growled through grit teeth.

"Are you ordering me, Dearie?" The Dark One's voice was bereft of any mocking leaving only a dangerous timbre like a rabid beast rousing from slumber. His glassy brown eyes narrowed warningly in a silent suggestion to plan her next words very carefully least something rather unfortunate befall her.

After a tenuous, breathless moment, Regina cleared her throat in defeat of their perilous stand off. Adopting her normal ease once more she managed a paltry upturn of her lips. "I'll make it worth your while."

"Oh." The fiend's voice brimmed with intrigue; the air of hazard diminishing.

"Freedom from the law." Came the harpy's instant nearly snapping reply. Another cunning smile traced her lips as she leaned back. "Even you, Mr. Gold are not immune to the law…yet. I know some of the deals you bargain out are less than on the up and up with our county law codes. Try to at least find me a child to adopt and you can do anything and everything without facing this world's justice system."

Rumpelstiltskin barked out a hard laugh, clearly amused. "You still keep Graham on so tight a leash?"

Regina nodded demurely as she took a tenuous sip of the warm brew. Pride wove into her horrid, blood red grin in agreement with his words.

"A free pass to keep my business private and unhampered should clients go…awry." Gold stroked his five o'clock shadowed chin thoughtfully; mulling over the uses such an advantage would allot him. "Very well, majesty. I make no promises, but I'll see what I can do. Admittedly it might take a very long while."

Scuffing her chair back, Regina rose with the grace of a monarch still, her smile a faint more genuine. "I'm in no hurry, Mr. Gold." She laughed at some private joke. "I do have forever."

The magical monster rose slower, his face twitching with pain at a twinge in his bad leg. "Well if that's all…"

"Actually." Regina interjected sly, her eyes floated back over to the lovely beauty looking at the exchange with unabashed curiosity. "I have use for an assistant back at the office; some one to answer calls and do some of the more strenuous, humdrum tasks and some minor errands."

Blood spirited away from Belle's face, turning her skin in an ashen hue. Fright churned in her flipping gut at the words spewed from the malicious queen's mouth. Regina wanted to buy her? Repulsion hitched in her throat like hot bile even at the thought. There was no doubt if her fate lay in the hands of the cruel witch then eternity would be misery incarnate.

Immediately, Rumpelstiltskin's face transformed from the normal easy dangerousness to something far more threatening. A perilous air wafted about him as he stared angrily at the Madame Mayor; all forms of cunning games fled from his weathered face in a hearts beat.

Holding back a sneer he growled possessively like a beast over a haunch of meat. "Belle is not for sale." He uttered in firm finality leaving no room for bartering

"Isn't it you who told me oh so long ago that everything has a price?" She mocked, her mouth pursed in amusement at getting a rise out of his temper.

"Ah Indeed, Dearie, but I am not looking to sell any of my things." Sheer murder flitted his low voice as he glared daggers at the cunning witch.

Regina lips twisted into a malicious smile. "Not even for the deed to the nun's convent?" The vile sorceress asked in a seductive mocking.

A muscle twitched in the Dark One's jaw as the only hint the offer took him aback. In truth, the deed to the nunnery was a prize he sorely desired. Hate for the fairies turned nuns burned hot in his chest for centuries, but Regina held their title and placed their funds on their small private school and dormitories.

Yes, she knew how badly he desired such a tract; so bad in fact she was positive he would have traded half the land he owned to grasp his filthy hands over the scrap of paper. With the deed as such a sought item for the indomitable Rumpelstiltskin, Regina had no qualms waving it before him knowing full well it was out of his reach.

"Get out." He managed to ground pass his clenched jaw.

Sighing, the vile harpy shrugged carelessly as though it was of no consequence. "You're loss then." Her black heels clicked rhythmically against the tile, almost in a mocking gait, as she strutted to the door. Taking one look back she grinned knowingly at them both. "Just remember my offer stands." With that she departed briskly into the warm afternoon, her chin held high at the small victory.

Only when she was little more than a dot down the street did Belle let out a tremulous breath. Placing a hand to her heart the brave beauty realized she was shaking terribly. Her nerves quivered with fire, for she knew how her master coveted such a contract and yet had passed it up...for her.

Flickering her gaze warily to the Dark One, she hoped he would be to upset over declining such a fortuitous a deal he clearly desired and had even mentioned it once r twice. "Th-thank you…" Belle stammered shyly. He had saved her from a terrible tumble to a sordid life of misery under the vile sorceress' heel. Heavens knew she did not desire to belong to Regina!

The Dark One stared at one of his most prized possession strangely. In any other instance he would have sold a trinket or two to procure the deed post haste and plunge the nuns in debt they would claw desperately to break from; but not Belle.

Why not her he pondered with a touch of panic smearing his blackened soul. Because she was far more precious than any other thing he owned? Because she was simply, lovely, endearing Belle? Stifling the thought away he waved his hand through the air dismissingly. "Uh…no matter."

"I'm…I'm sorry you couldn't get the deed that you wanted." She rubbed her slender forearm bashfully as she nibbled on her bottom lip; what else could she possibly say to thank him for saving her?

A small smile twitched nervously upon his features. Turning back to the stairs he began his limped trek back to his study, but halted. Abruptly, the magical monster turned back to his Belle slightly. "It's…it's…all right. It would have been an unfair trade on my part; I would have lost more than I would have gained."

Quite uncertain what had prodded his tongue to speak something so unlike himself, the fiend hobbled back up the stairs with as much decorum and haste he could possess, leaving a slightly smiling, confused Belle behind trying to puzzle out his strange words.

With a small sigh of defeat and relief, the beauty shrugged and busied herself in preparing a cup of tea. The master's words probably meant nothing, of course.

~8~8~

_A/N: I am sorry. Hate me if you want, but I just don't think, even in the show, Regina, being the brilliant evil woman that she is would actually assume Mr. Gold did not remember who he truly was. He's the _**Dark One **_for heavens sakes. Anyway just my two cents. _


	5. Lonely Lady

For the next few weeks things passed easily in the quiet, plaintive household of Mr. Gold. Regina's dire offer was placed into the remote terrifying annals in the back of Belle's mind like her dark nightmares of the savage, advancing ogres or withering thoughts of being wedded to the brutish Gaston, to be forgotten amidst the radiance her effervescent cheerfulness.

Despite what Rumpelstiltskin said about taking time in exploring and cleaning his large domicile, for the assiduous Belle the work flew by far too quickly. Every room was swept, washed and polished to a brilliant luster. The dark colored, thick drapes once shadowing the home in dim repose sat shoved agape to allow the sun entry into the ominous salmon pink mansion. Nearly each room was filled with warmth and light and a sense of life thriving through the expansive home like breath in a body.

Such is why on one warm spring day she found, after a speedy round of dusting and sweeping, they beauty found there was nothing to do.

That in turn led her to the sparse back yard garden where she swore to make it look as fabulous as the dainty ones she had seen in some of the magazines Rumpelstiltskin threw carelessly on the kitchen table after picking up the mail.

Back in their old realm, when she was a merchant king's daughter, gardening was not on the highest priority, and even less so when the shadow that was the barbaric ogres came charging to their walls.

In the Dark Castle she was much to busy trying to clean the hoards of trinkets and become used to her new master making the labor of gardening in the tangled mess sprawled in the shade of his ominous citadel an impossibility.

Now, however, there was no stopping her from raiding the small, rundown tool shed nestled against the north wall and hauling out a few needed supplies for toil.

Belle grinned victoriously as she finished yanking the final gray straggly weed from the last flower bed. Black smears of dirt streaked across her porcelain cheeks along with a few minor scratches upon her unprotected arms where the thorns and wayward burrs scraped her flesh. Tears of sticky sweat brooked down her brow and temples lining her face with the testament of hard work.

Hard, yet enjoyable work, the beauty thought with beaming satisfaction. Her cobalt eyes slowly scanned the few rescued flowers with pride at the sight of weed-less, watered beds showing testament to her dirty toils.

Already it seemed to her that the pallid asphodels were rearing their bowed heads and the full marigolds were blossoming in a sunny tint of yellow. Besides for those sprightly hued flora one stunted rose bush grew in the corner of the most shaded side of the garden. Its buds were a dark ruby and almost seemed to cry blood when dew spotted their velveteen petals.

No, it wasn't much, but it was a start.

Stabbing her spade into the moist earth, Belle wiped her brow tiredly causing a long sash of grit and topsoil to slash across her forehead. Gardening was hard work for a novice, no matter how pleasant, the beauty was coming to realize.

Tilting her head upwards to the cloudless heavens, she gauged by the position of the blazing orb in correlation to somewhere about lunch time. Laughter bubbled from her lips as a faint rumble that echoed from her stomach seemed to agree with her notions.

Her smile faded briefly as a spark of sadness touched her mirth like a leaden gray cloud scudding over the sun.

Biting her lower lips she flicked a few granules of dirt from her beat up jeans. Many a day she wished Rumpelstiltskin would come back home for lunch or even call with the new fangled device known as a telephone; if just to see was she was she adhering to her chores or slacking off.

Being in his home all alone certainly made the silence painfully pronounced to the beauty. She longed to hear his deep accented bur and banter with him, to know she was not all by herself for all eternity.

Loneliness prowled ravenously upon her senses, dampening her normally vivacious spirit. At least in the Dark Castle, the fiend was not called to business everyday nor did he choose to ramble the realms at his leisure every waking hour, leaving her bereft of any company.

Wiping her hands on the pair of old blue jeans she sighed morosely and began to rise right as something soft and cold touched her arm.

Alarm flared through the clever beauty like roaring flames leaping from a hearth. A half yelp, half scream erupted from her lips at the unexpected sensation. Dirt flew haphazardly through the air as she panicked and yanked the spade from the earth and scrambled around all in one awkward motion.

Holding the spade out in front of her defensively, the beauty seemed ready to defend herself as though the old gardening tool was a knight's forged short sword.

Deep brown eyes gazed back at her curiously as though confused at her fright. The creature before her was a small, raggedly dog.

Long, light brown fur mopped its tiny body which was tangled and matted n some areas with splotches of gunk and waste from garbage cans.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as she lowered the ancient spade. "A dog…" Belle managed to stammer once her heart slowed it thundering pace. Blood galloped heatedly through her veins as fright fueled her imagination.

A host of dangers flooded her mind all at the simple touch of a wet nose against her exposed arm; dangers she allowed to creep in from the corners of a bored mind.

The animal wagged its short tail happily and yipped once in a friendly manner.

The beauty stared curiously at the creature, her face a mixture of relief and wariness. She had always had a soft spot for animals; her father had even given her a horse named Philip who perished bravely in the ogre's war leading their best knight in the charge.

Her brow knit in consternation as her sharp eyes observed the canine. "How did you get in here?" She inquired under her breath.

Even as she spoke the words a gray snout poked out from the side of a loose plank on the fence. The animal on the other side was obviously much larger, though it tried desperately to dig and scoot its way under. Its long, untrimmed claws scraped frantically at the lawn where its mangy paws could reach causing mounds of earth to bunch up, but it did not growl or bay murderously as though on the trail of some prey.

After a few moments the creature behind the fence let out a lonesome whine and skulked off leaving Belle and the brown canine.

"Were you running, girl? Was that other dog chasing you?" She cautiously put her hand out to pet the tiny dog.

Immediately the animal seemed delighted by the petting and. Moving forward she shifted so Belle could scratch behind her ear and eagerly neared the wary beauty; her tail happily waggling at the attention.

"Poor thing." Said Belle pityingly as she scanned the animal.

Behind the dull shaggy coat of brown it was lean and scruffy telling the tale of being long without a home or a bath. There was no sign of a collar or even an indication of once being on long ago.

Kindness welled in her heart for the stray, yet sociable animal. She couldn't simply make sure it got back to the other side of the fence and leave it to its own devices. Besides, Belle thought warmly, her hands stroking the beasts fur; it looked so small and alone; much like she felt.

Rising, the brown haired beauty motioned for the animal to stay. A smile played upon her face as the tiny dog obeyed. For some reason it understood basic instructions, perhaps trained by some previous owner.

Patting the dog happily she padded over to the run down garden shed while speaking to the happy tempered canine. "First I shall give you a bath then you can have something to eat."

The animal merely wagged its matted tail in reply as contemplations whirled maddeningly in Belle's mind.

~8~8~

"Lady, yes I think that name suits you." The beauty remarked to the sleepy animal curled up comfortably beside her on the burgundy leather couch.

It had been quite a day with her new found companion, Belle thought back exhaustedly, though a large smile bloomed upon her face. After coming into disaster with the garden hose and soap to wash the poor dear, it was her who had found herself in need of a bath reeking of wet dog.

After, she had managed to give the dog a few scrapes of meat and a dish of water out in the garden.

Lunch had not been terrible and even enjoyable, and when they were at an end the shaggy brown dog strutted into the house as though it were her own; much to Belle's amusement.

She looked so utterly royal and dignified, they brilliant beauty automatically dubbed her Lady in esteem to her dainty, well mannered attitude.

For a split second she pondered naming the sweet beast Regina, but that would have been an insult to female dogs everywhere.

In some ways she felt a connection with the stray beast; she seemed as lonely as Belle and grateful for the kindness of a bath and a meal and a soft place to sleep.

Scratching the content dog behind one of her long, floppy ears, Belle could not contain a ragged, but kind sigh. "Well, I have you cleaned and fed. The last challenge will be letting Rumpelstiltskin know we have a new guest in the house."

Dread pooled in her stomach like scalding bile even at the horrid thought. Though she lived with the most infamous man in Storybrooke, she did not truly know how he would react to the well tempered, enjoyable animal seated lazily beside her.

As if on cue, her ears and the dogs perked to the sound of tires rolling in the drive and the rumbling engine shuttering off.

"This is it, Lady." She whispered to the animal as though it was a partner in crime and they about to perform their biggest heist. Her cobalt depths beamed down hopefully into the large, dark brown intelligent eyes of the dog. "Just try to look cute and helpless."

Even if the beast could comprehend the words, their meaning was lost as the Dark One turned the lock to the front door.

Leaping down from the couch the tiny terror went galloping to the door excitedly; ears and tail flying in the wind. Scrambling up, Belle followed, but the beast was quicker than her by far. She was barely in the dimly lit hall when the door slid open.

"Belle." Rumpelstiltskin's harsh dry tone pierced through the air like a low peal of thunder rolling about the sky.

The lovely beauty cringed fearfully at the sound, knowing it was one of incredulity and vast displeasure. Her feet barely made a creak upon the warped floor as she crept warily to the front entry way. The young woman couldn't help but grin as she rounded the corner at the sight of Lady sitting in front of the door; her quickly wagging tail sweeping the floor as she stared up at the fiend.

A grimace of disgust twisted upon the Dark One's lips as he pointed a wiry finger down to the expectant beast. "Explain." He ordered slowly, his voice even, but there was no denying the snapping under the dangerously calm tone.

Swallowing down her nerves in one large gulp, Belle forced herself to be fearless in the face of his obvious displeasure. "She got under a loose board in the fence, there was no collar, she's very well behaved, and I named her Lady." She managed to stammer quickly, her voice clear and laced with far more confidence that she felt wavering in her slender form or bubbling in her wrenching gut.

His grimace stretched thinner as flames of rising anger sparked heatedly in his irises. "You named it?"

Belle inclined her head slightly and clasped her hands humbly before her. "Yes and I…I would like to keep her."

"Out of the question." Came in instantly, cold hearted reply. Slamming the oaken door he limped in surly disposition to the kitchen. Anger radiated off him like an aura that was almost tangible as thick mist. No, he was not please in the slightest.

Belle followed dutifully, her tone imploring. "But why?"

Fear quaked tremulously inside her even as the words flew from between the threshold of her quaking pink lips. It was dangerous to talk with the Dark One in many situations, let alone try to argue with him.

"Why?" He echoed with a sneer to hide the surprise at her pushing of the issue. Normally his word was law, but she was boldly arguing with him. His cane seemed to hammer harder with every hobbled stride as he wove through the large house. "Because, my dear Belle, I don't want some mangy dog running wild around here. And furthermore it's my house."

"I live here too." She retorted softly before the words even registered to her usually bright head.

The Dark One stopped abruptly, as though a fist had slammed into his face. Turning about slowly to study her; his leathered face was lined with wrinkles of stark confusion and blazing anger. Never had she delved deeper into a command or request in attempt to usurp it. Did she even comprehend what perilous ground she treaded by not letting the matter drop and tossing the little beast out?

"I know I have no right to ask this." She continued bravely, staunchly staring down the most dangerous man in perhaps the world or at least in the small town of Storybrooke. "But I get lonely. It is a life of solitude I live here. Lady would be the perfect companion for me and the best defense in my encroaching loneliness. You have me for company-"

"I bought you to work; nothing more" He snapped callously, drawing a lash of pain across Belle's porcelain face.

How could he say that when they spent so many days simply being in one another's presence for a little companionship? Even in the Dark Castle, the beauty knew he preferred her to spend the precious hours of leisure she could in the Main Hall with him whilst he conjured worthless straw into spindles heavily laden with gold.

Though he might not say it, they both knew she was a source of noise and distraction in a house that would have felt more like a moldy crypt than a large manse if he was all by his lonesome.

Taking a small breath to suppress her flitting nerves she pressed on tenaciously in the face of his ever waxing wrath. "Nevertheless I provide company, though you might not desire it. Please, will you allow me the same right?"

For a moment a look of contemplative indecision sheared his rough face. His Belle was lonely; pain stabbed his spirit at the dour admittance. Part of him cursed himself roundly for ignoring her feelings, whilst the other whispered in feral snarls calling him weak to even consider her little wants and likes.

In the crevices of his dark, fetid heart he knew Belle was right in a way. She was good company for when he pined for such which was one of the reasons he detested Regina even brining up the suggestion he sell Belle.

She was one of a kind, priceless, a gem found in the ruins of a suffering little kingdom floundering and rapidly sinking in a war they could not win.

"You never told me you were lonely." The magical monster stated quietly in some form of paltry excuse. He stared at her strangely as though unearthing a new discovery of his dutiful Belle.

The beauty averted her azure orbs, her voice lowering melancholically as she shrugged forlornly. "I didn't think you'd care."

At that, there was no veiling the rare show of emotion from her master. His whisky brown eyes, once cold and hard grew warm and kind as though he were truly a man and not a monster trussed up to look like a normal human.

No longer did he appear like a sly wolf garbed in sheep's wool to deceive those about him, but a true man.

Seeing a minute tempered flaw in his normally unwavering fortitude, Belle leapt eagerly at the golden opportunity with the ferocity of a starving, desperate tiger. She clasped her hands together pleadingly to her chest. "Lady won't be trouble. She's quiet and sweet and won't get in your way at all. She doesn't bark or have fleas and eats little. If you don't look down to see her, you won't even know she's there."

Part of the beauty nearly felt like begging him for the small dog staring up at them and wagging its tail in happy oblivion, but she still kept her pride close for it was the last thing that was truly her own.

Moments ticked by in the eternal stream of time for Belle as the Dark One stared intently upon her. Every heartbeat felt like a millennia, every breath a century.

Behind the mask of stretched flesh and sinew, she could see the cogs in his mind rotating in their cunning cycle and contemplating deeply.

Unable to bear the crushing silence she queried imploringly. "Have I ever entreated you for any favor in this world or the last?"

His dark brown eyes narrowed in warning, commanding her to be silent louder than words ever could. Long, minutes ticked by till Belle though she might burst from the tension. Even Lady had grown wary, with her tail between her legs and head lowered.

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head, a small huff escaping his lips. "Make certain she is not a nuisance." The Dark One threatened, his initial rejection of the tiny, furry creature fading away with a relented sigh. He fluttered his hand lazily through the air as though the animal was a minor inconvenience and rolled his brown eyes. "I'll allow your little pet to stay for now."

A deep sigh of relief billowed from the eased beauty's lips making her shoulders slump as anxiousness drained from her body. "Thank you, Rum. You have no idea how much this all means to me."

His gazed flickered irksomely from the panting, shaggy haired beast to the lovely beauty beside it. "You're right." He nodded and began to limp into the kitchen while his free hand began to loosen the dark blue tie strangling his throat. "I don't."

Though he made his dissaproval more than known, the next morning Belle awoke to a dog dish and collar upon the kitchen table.

Her azure eyes widened in vast surprise as she inched into the dark kitchen. Warily taking up the ribboned collar the beuaty toyed with the bright red strip and the diamond shaped tag written in flourished script of 'Lady' in her grip.

Hand curled tightly over the small, simple thing, the lovely beauty quietly thanked the Dark One under her breath for the needed gifts.

There was a kind, understandable man under the thick, stifling layers of evil and malignant vapors coalescing over his dark soul. Though he did not often show it, in the very depths of her heart of hearts the russet haired beauty knew compassion was still there as a bright ray in the murky, fetid mire of darkness, and that was enough.

~8~8~

_A/N: Brownies for those who can tell me where Lady is from! _


	6. Old Flames and Company

Belle was lonely. The Dark One replayed her gentle yet pained words over and over in his ancient mind like some tortuous mantra flaying his brain. A dark growl of abject frustration and perchance guilt bubbled from betwixt his thin lips as he angrily clutched both sides of a crystalline display case.

No matter how long he strove to shake the thought, the recollection of her melancholic words haunted him like the phantasm roaming an old house. They wailed in his ears like the eerily whining wind and rabidly slashed at what little remained of his once human soul with its razor sharp talons.

Why did her admittance of loneliness bother him so?

For lack of anything better to do than mull over feeling he could not even vastly begin to comprehend, his cunning eyes strafed over the entirety of his junk littered shop. The modest establishment practically brimmed with antiques and other items traded to him for money or favors.

To the Dark One, infamous deal maker and trader, the littered pawnshop nestled on its own street corner, was a place he could enjoy for the next 28 years they'd be cordoned off in the shabby hamlet.

Tarnish and grit laced curios sat crammed in every dust lined nook and cranny; ready to be perused and browsed by those who dared enter the beasts lair.

Normally a large, wicked grin stole upon his rather rough face with every nervous soul that warily scuttled into his shop looking for a deal or advantage. A spark of devious glee would flare in his malevolent senses as they scrambled away completely clueless he was the only one who would gain in the long run.

He could always tell those who were looking for more than a little trinket to place in their home. There was always an ember of malice and hatred festering in their eyes when they desired more than a petty bauble; a loan, a tract of land, a shop…revenge.

Yes, those the fiend loved to barter with; to toy with their false little lives even here and play them as puppets for his own paltry amusements to alleviate the boredom of his existence.

A sigh tumbled lamely from his grimacing lips as he slowly wiped the glass top of one of the display cases holding an gold watch with a white rabbit engraved on the back and some novelty cups.

Rumpelstiltskin's scruffy reflection mirrored in the streaked glass was a look of stark displease. He growled and wiped the watery image away. How could he be happy when she was miserable? How could the sun shine so brightly when a clouds marred her joy?

The thoughts of her unhappiness relentlessly wafted through his mind once more. She was lonely. His Belle was lonely.

The Dark One was under no illusion she was actually content in his clutches, but that by no means meant he desired her to be utterly unhappy for the rest of eternity. No, he craved with all his being to witness her sanguine smile and tittering laugh and intelligent banter with him.

The bronze bell over the glass door jangled clangorously making Mr. Gold tuck thoughts of his dutiful slave away in lieu of business and deal makings. Dissatisfaction tugged over his features perniciously. To say he felt the normal thrill of another poor soul to dance to his tune would have been a lie.

Nothing seemed quite as rewarding with the knowledge a plaintive shadow of solitude hovered over his treasured Belle.

A distasteful grimace etched his thin lips as a brown clad; hulking figure swaggered through the door with an air of obtuse confidence.

Hate and perhaps a splash of jealousy flared inside the wiry form of the Dark One.

Clasping his hands over the hilt of his cane, the fiend attempted a thin smile. "Deputy Stone, what pray tell brings you to my little establishment?" Rumpelstiltskin inquired dryly, his voice laced heavily with disgust.

Deputy Guy Stone was a towering specimen of a man. His inky black hair was sheared in a short cropped fashion and tucked fittingly under the light brown policeman's cap where once had been a helm of silver emblazoned plate. A meticulously ironed, light brown officer's uniform garbed his mountainous, burly frame along with a black belt holstered with all the essential tools for his position in the town of Storybrooke.

Not only was he deputy to Sheriff Graham, he was also once Belle's betrothed. Once he had been Gaston, the knight due to be wedded to the daughter of King Maurice in their old world before the Dark One had spirited her away forever and the curse veiled over the innocent minds of Storybrooke.

His thick, still battle calloused hand drummed lightly over the cold, black steel of his gun as he plodded carelessly into the dust filled shop. The star badge proudly pinned to his shirt reflected in the dim, sparse light of the establishment like some sort of trophy he displayed.

Guy's dull, simple minded sensibilities scanned over the pawn shop intently as though some secret lay under the hoards of trinkets if he only looked hard enough.

His fingers lazily spun an old brass globe sitting on the counter whilst he shrugged nonchalantly. "There was a robbery last night down on Dark Wood Lane, Mr. Gold. A few TV's, stereos, and some radios were nabbed."

"And so you come to the only pawnshop in town to see if someone sold me the stolen contraband." Gold deadpanned with grisly clarity. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he stifled the fiery urge to demand the officer to remove himself in a less than pleasant manner.

Rage hummed under his cool composure with the slow dunce even in his vicinity. If he had been the sheriff instead of the sharp eyed Graham, getting away with all but murder would have been laughably easy.

Stone was a moron though he wore the uniform of deputy, and had the small town reputation of never losing a scuffle. The crooked, heaven knew how many times broken nose, and myriad scars upon his features held testimony to that. He possessed strength in muscle alone and not a lick of it in wit or cunning.

Slipping his thumbs in his belt, Guy rocked back on his heels lightly as he regarded the Dark One almost haughtily, but not quite managing it. "Well, it makes sense. They sell it to you, and you mark it up higher. I could order a warrant to search this old trash heap."

"This is an antique pawnshop, Deputy Stone." The businessman growled evenly, trying hard to keep his composure and not snap on the imbecile. His hand curled tightly in a fist around the old rag in his to keep his temper till he felt his finger tear through the worn gray fibers. Motioning briskly about the shop, he snorted irksomely. "Do you see any pilfered TV's or radios anywhere? I do not stock in those products."

"No, all you supply is useless junk and misery." Stone's voice turned hard as rock and welled with unfathomable hate for a brief moment.

Tension thrummed between them dangerously as they stared daggers at one another. Though no one in town particularly liked the dangerous, ruthless Mr. Gold, most knew Stone had a particular loathing for the businesses man.

"So how's Anna?" Guy relented unsteadily in silent defeat. His bold idiocy, while vast, was still no match for the feral glare of the Dark One pinioned upon him like the stare of a rabid wolf.

"Fine." He spat simply.

Guilt wrenched his shriveled heart in their knife-like claws at the lie nearly making him flinch. His Belle was not fine, he knew imperatively, she was alone and it was his doing by keeping her close and holing her up in the large, pink dwelling like another inanimate possession.

"You know it's hard to believe such a bright woman like Anna ended up as a caretaker." Stone huffed incredulously and crossed his muscle bound arms over his broad chest. "She graduated top of all her classes in college and was voted most likely to succeed in high school when me and her were still together." He shook his head confusedly; a look usually plastered upon his chiseled face. "I don't know what possessed her to come back to this pathetic little town and not be a big shot in Boston or something."

An annoyed sigh tumbled from the Dark One's lips as he flashed another obliqued, piqued look to the ignorant officer. "The point, Deputy?"

"Anna's pop isn't doing to well." Guy revealed lowly as though the vicious Mr. Gold did not know those facts. "He's not so active the best of days and the shops suffering for it."

Gold rolled his eyes. "And you want me to forgive this months rent or something else ridiculously chivalrous." He concluded malevolently.

Stone turned to him fully to stare him straight in the eyes. His bulk would have been intimidating if he wasn't so utterly stupid. Guy's oily black eyes narrowed into thin slits. He poked a thick finger into the businessman's well tailored suit, stupidly staring in the face of death itself without realizing how close his demise neared. "I'm doing the father of an old friend a favor."

Gold tsked mockingly, shaking his head though there was no denying the utter malice glinting in his brown depths making the officer take a step back. "No, no see what you're doing is trying to make me look past his rent so that maybe you'll see Miss French out and about and tell her of your noble supplications." The fiends chuckled in cruel mirth. "Still trying to get her to wed you, I see."

The entire town knew Annabelle French and Guy Stone had been sweet hearts all through their high school years; at least, that's what the false memories whispered to them.

When graduation day rolled around with Anna in the very top of all her classes and the brutish Guy making it by the skin of his teeth, he'd proposed to her and she'd said no in favor to pursue other ventures out of the quiet shire.

Anger washed over the deputy's face like a shade of a completely different being clawing up from the normally obnoxious, bragging brute. Stone squared his rugged jaw furiously as though sagely weighing the options of simply shooting Mr. Gold then and there.

He threw that particular notion away as quickly as it came, for in truth Gold terrified him though he did not know why such a wiry little toad made one such as he nervous. For Guy, he had beaten men near his own size to bloody pulp, but for the sinewy rat Gold, he quaked to even dare throw a punch.

With a staunch will, he swallowed down a few profane words that he so desperately desired to spew at the Dark One. Guy was stupid, but fortunately he was not that foolish. Respectfully, or perhaps in some form of mocking, Guy Stone tipped his hat and marched away like a wrathful mountain brimming with rage.

~8~8~

"Belle?" Rumpelstiltskin called almost nervously as he limped into his vast home.

Hobbling into the shadowed domicile, he quietly placed a burden down upon a low table next to the door.

Though he truly wished to cure his Belle's lonliness, he was also concerned the fool Guy would stop by and poke his nose where he had no business to prod.

Rumpelstiltskin, depsite his endearment to his precious servant girl, was still a fathomlessly possessive beast. Belle was his and his alone, and he did not need the moron Deputy Stone dredging up old her false memories and memories of when she was to have wed him.

Seeing there was no need for concern, the fiend sighed in relief and tossed the thought of Gaston away like he would garbage.

The house seemed so large and lonely like the maw of an empty grave. The only company was the looming silence that resounded louder than any noise ever could.

The tap of his hawk nosed cane seemed echoed plaintively through the dark halls and empty rooms like the peal of a monastery bell - solemn and absolute.

Regret filled the Dark One as he silently threaded his wave through the voided domicile. Looking about the chilled emptiness he could see why she was lonely. Everything was bereft of life or movement.

Belle was just a singular person walking about a dustless mausoleum and no way to escape if she wanted to abide by her word.

Part of him was genuinely surprised she was not trying to escape from such a life of solitude and deportability.

"Rum, you're home early." The beauty appeared through a door way leading to the kitchen as she dried her hands on a kitchen towel. Her porcelain features furrowed furtively in curiosity at his sudden appearance, but there was no masking the sanguine pleasure upon her lovely face to see him home in the early afternoon.

The fiend cleared his throat nervously and fiddled with the knot of his dark tie. "I decided to come home for lunch." He explained in an formal manner as though it were merely a whimsical thought to get out of the normal hum-drum.

Belle's face brightened immediately. Her wide smile was like summer sun beaming on his frosted soul. Glee radiated off her gaily as she nodded dutifully. "Al…alright I'll fix another plate."

"Oh, and I have something for you." Rumpelstiltskin blurted in his own stammering way, unused to giving things without a price. Giving to simply give without bartering something out in return made the Dark One feel out of his element.

Limping back to the front door, he motioned for Belle to follow as he wove his way through the large house. Part of him could not help but notice that even her smile seemed to make the large, ominous dwelling shudder to life.

Once back at the entryway, Gold picked up what he had left on the side table by the door. A small stack of books of all hues and many without their sleeves sat in his grip.

He shrugged carelessly at the dusty items as though they were of no use. "Some fellow traded these in for a mantle clock. I have no use for them, and I don't think they'd sell."

The beauty stared at the Dark One in shock of the gift laden in his grip. Words flitted from her mind for anything to say about such precious tokens.

There were no books in his sprawling mansion, though she had always loved to delve into a tome and become enraptured in the words interestingly scrawled upon the pages.

"Would you like them?" He inquired warily, his heart thudding vapidly in nervousness.

Would she be saddened by the gift for nostalgias sake, or offended he brought you her slew of ragged books coming loose from their spines and their papers yellowing with age?

Belle nodded rapidly as though breaking through an enchantment trance. "Of course, I'd like them. I'd love them" She smiled widely, making the Dark One wish to break into a wide grin as well. "Thank you so much."

Reverently relieving the books from him, Belle could not help but shudder pleasantly as his wiry fingers brushed ever so faintly against hers. Clutching the worn tomes close to her chest as though forged of gold and rubies, she beamed happily down at the little treasure of books he thought to allot her.

Invariably pleased that she adored the gift, his guilt mildly assuaged, the once magical fiend began to hobble towards the kitchen for a quick bite before heading back to the shop.

"Rum." Belle whispered abruptly causing him to halt in his tracks. Her voice was choked and hitched raggedly with heavy emotion.

Did such a simple gift mean so great a deal to her?

He forced himself not to turn to face her, though his hand curled in a vice about the golden handle of his ash would cane. "Yes, Belle?" He queried quietly, his accented timbre almost tender towards his Belle.

The luscious beauty sniffed once as though trying to stifle a flood of tears brimming in her depths. "You…you're…you are kind."

Heat flooded the Dark One all over his straggly frame at the low proclamation. Licking his dry lips with an even dryer tongue, his mind tried to figure why she would say something so foolish.

Since their very first meeting his very actions displayed him to be a cruel, selfish beast who cared not for the plights of innocents or the blood of women and children mindlessly slaughtered by invading ogres. He was calloused to their troubles and despair whilst he casually bartered for her life to serve him for all and eternity; never giving a thought of how her life was to be lived or her hopes and dreams.

With their deal of desperation struck, he spirited her from her father and her fiancé and life of nobility all in one night and thrust her into slavery. In her days in the ominous Dark Castle he made her sleep in a cold, fetid dungeon like a prisoner away from all else in the realms, and now forced her to live a morose life of solitude with only a stray mutt and the monster that had captured her in the first place as company.

Why in heaven above would she ever have the audacity to deem him 'kind'?

He didn't know. Icy, raw terror surged through the beast at the sudden thought. Sweat pricked at the back of his neck worriedly. For once since he became the Dark One he did not know something that should have been blatantly obvious and that frightened the fiend more than anything else had in centuries.

Why exactly did he strive to make her smile, to laugh, to be content at least forever with him? Why did his heart thrill at the words so gently spoken of him being kind?

A grim smile listed upon his face at the brilliantly display of irony that bloomed in his mind. To think, the wonderful woman who he had control over and should have dictated her every move bemused him more than all the others in Storybrooke combined.

"So…um…" Belle uttered a paltry, nervous laugh and placed the old, peeling tomes back upon the table. She jerked her thumb in the general direction of the kitchen. "I should probably get lunch prepared."

Rumpelstiltskin warmed immediately at her wariness, his own smile becoming more comfortable. At least, the Dark One consoled himself contentedly, he was not the only one confused at the emotions surging his soul, or so he hoped.

Awkwardly, the pair walked in silence to the large kitchen. Their steps were slow and sagacious as each studiously combed over new thoughts and perhaps feelings rising into their hearts.


	7. Storybrooke Beckons

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing!_

**~8~8~**

The sweet perfume of mild summer wafted gaily upon the air in the little town of Storybrooke. Winding vines of wild honeysuckle bloomed upon old decrepit fences, dark ivy crawled up the sides of comely brick homes and wooden trellises, and the lush growth of nature was at its apex.

It wasn't so late in the sweltering season where it was swelteringly hot, but just at the perfect time where declining spring and rising summer met in glorious tandem playing to their strengths.

A small, fond smile crossed Rumpelstiltskin's lips as he stared through a small slit in the blinds of his dim study. Below him the emerald lawn of the back yard spread out like a neat little jade rectangle spotted with a few beds of blooming flora robust with the life of summer and the tender care which was taken to make them flourish. Belle took special pains to tend her garden and her work was justly rewarded.

Beneath the towering maple tucked into the corner to provide shade, his Belle laid languorously upon an old blue blanket.

She rested on her right side with one of the books he'd gifted to her opened wide. Her head was propped up with her hand and her rich russet mane cascaded freely down her slender shoulders as she flipped through the pages eagerly.

Just glancing at the far away misty blue look in her eyes, the fiend could tell her mind was utterly engrossed in a tale of this world scrawled before her.

He chuckled lowly watching her there, but in another fashion, truly not with her senses taken to another place and time. She became so oblivious to the world around her with her nose tucked neatly into a tome.

Beside Belle the brown dog, Lady, sat curled up sleeping contently by its mistress. At times the tiny beast would perch its head up like a person waiting for a knock upon the door, only to settle again.

How he wished to be down there with his Belle! The Dark One sighed longingly as he imagined sitting under the wide limbed maple with her and basking in the glorious golden afternoon.

Oh she would be a sheer delight, talking lightly with him or detailing what was happening in the latest book she was tackling. Could a lovely afternoon be spent any better than with her?

He day dreamed they would watch the frothy alabaster clouds lazily drift by like little boats aimlessly sailing the deep azure firmament and fall asleep under the shade with her head in his lap and he protectively watching over her even in his own slumber.

Abruptly, the beauty briskly tilted her head from the tome and looked upward as though feeling his soft, wanting eyes gazing down upon her.

Taken aback by the beauty's sudden motion, Rumpelstiltskin instinctively stepped away from the glass as though it were aflame. Furling his hand back guiltily he let it fall to his side like he had been touching a poisonous serpent ready to pierce his flesh.

The blinds snapped back to their position with a slight crinkling noise, leaving the study dark and adumbrated from the eyes of the world and the golden sun.

A dark expletive mumbled past the fiend's lips angrily. Nerves taunt at nearly being caught staring, Rumpelstiltskin ran a trembling hand through his straggly brown tresses as insufficiency whispered cruelly to his senses and filled his mind with thoughts on ineptitude.

No, it was absolute foolishness to imagine of such whims and fancies with his lovely Belle that would never come to pass. He could waste his hours lost in pleasant day dreams, but as the day dreams slowly turned into nightmares of reality he was still her captor and she still his captive.

Sneering angrily at himself, the Dark One could already see her nauseous look of fear and disgust mingled together glimmering within her cobalt depths if dared he asked to join her upon the lawn under the awning of maple leaves.

Belle would never willingly invite him down in to her little garden to fritter away a quiet summer afternoon, of that the fiend was certain. How could she ever possibly desire a monster to keep her company in such a charming place?

No, if he wished to spend more time with his Belle then the magical monster knew it had to be himself who set where they spent time, so that she would not hold all the cards to permit or dismiss him at her will.

Snatching up his cane, Rumpelstiltskin paced thoughtfully and stroked his beardless chin sagaciously as the wheels in his mind turned.

Such a place would have to be large and confusing to her senses so that she relied on him and would not dare utter her distaste or disapproval. It had to be large and frightening where she would cling desperately to him and…Rumpelstiltskin paused his furtive pacing suddenly as the perfect thought struck him. A conniving smile curled upon his rough face. Such a place had to be outside his salmon pink manse.

The fiend chuckled slightly at his genius to spend time with his Belle and not be exposed to her rejection that could pierce him like an arrow.

Limping towards the door, he surmised it was well past time Belle and he explored the regions of Storybrooke.

~8~8~

Puffy bumblebees droned lazily from flower to flower in the tiny garden Belle kept. Vibrantly hued butterflies danced from petal to petal as though sipping wine instead of nectar as they pitched and fluttered drunkenly though the small garden; inebriated on summer.

The air was a tenuous mix of warmth and the fragrance of the blossoms mingled with the lullaby of a warm wind rustling through the plumed boughs of the trees.

Belle yawned drowsily as her eyelids became heaver and heavy on the summer afternoon. It was as though a coaxing hand tugged at her consciousness to slip away and lose herself in happy, sunny dream of her comfortable repose. Perhaps, she supposed bashfully, blood mounting in her cheeks, she would dream of her master in one of his favorable, talkative moods bandying quips and sly observances.

Slowly, Belle's head dipped lower, her lids fluttering vapidly until the bright tinted garden was merely a smear of colors.

The Dark One's cane barely made a thump against the thick, luscious carpet of emerald as he sneaked closer to his dutiful servant girl lost in peaceful sleep.

Her body lay caught in a few trickles of honeyed rays breaking through the pregnant maple boughs. Sun and wind danced playfully through her silky chestnut tresses, turning her ringlets into a tint of burnished crimson and showering her beauty with a radiance that made his heart stop its palpitating rhythm.

Rumpelstiltskin stood frozen, entranced by her beauty. She was more than gorgeous dressed in a southern red and yellow sun dress that exposed her arms and fell mid way to her calves.

Urges to rest beside her and thread his fingers through her mane and whisper his appreciation of her loveliness in her ear flared through him violently like a tornado inside his wiry form. Curling his fingers tighter about the golden hilt of his cane to keep his normal composure, the fiend subdued the deep desire staunchly.

Rumpelstiltskin reminded himself in no uncertain terms Belle was a young, pleasant, vivacious beauty and he was an aging, surly, snapping beast.

Never in their entire time in Storybrooke had he been more aware of the silver streaked just at the edges of his hair like he was at that moment. True, he was not, that old, but in the same instance neither was Belle.

Stupidity welled dourly inside the Dark One making him silently, but roundly, curse himself. He frowned darkly, his soul gathering black clouds of rage and infuriation. What had he been thinking to come down and ask her if she wanted to take a stroll about town? Why would someone so fantastically beautiful want to do anything with him especially be seen in public with the most hated man in town?

A twisted scowl festered upon his lips as he forced himself to break free of the enchantment her gorgeous form held him under. Turning away quickly, the Dark One quietly decided to hobble back into his house and up to his dim study where he could sequester himself away from light and beauty and gaze longingly at her from afar like he would always have to.

"Rum?" Belle murmured sleepily just as he turned away.

Rumpelstiltksin could not suppress a flinch at the drowsy timbre of her voice. Behind him the blanket rustled telling him she was coming awake.

"Is there something you want?" She inquired whilst stifling a lazy yawn and plying away the veils of slumber from her fogged mind.

He could have ordered her to a task to mask his presence there as nothing more than finding her to work, but he had given her the day off. The Dark One's mind whirled crazily, his thoughts coming up all but blank. Now that he was caught what could he say?

Surely she would not wish to hear he was only watching her sleep and admiring her loveliness. That would have more of a chance to scare her off than for it to be a compliment.

"Would you care to go for a stroll?" Rumpelstiltskin blurted so quickly he was not even certain he was the one to utter it.

His mouth seemed to work upon its own accord with the desire in his heart forming the hasty words.

The fiend wished to scream at himself for such a nervous query which tumbled pathetically from his thin lips. Trying to gather up any bits of his shattered decorum, Rumpel cleared his throat officiously. "What I mean to say is that it's a fine day out and you've worked fastidiously keeping things neat and tidy, so I do believe its time you were allowed to roam out."

All tiredness fled from Belle's mind in the blink of and eye at the sudden proclamation. Her eyes of bright blue widened in stark surprise. For the first time he was letting her leave the house!

"I…I…" Her words could not express the shock and thankfulness properly. "Yes I-I….would like that."

Rumpelstiltskin only inclined his head slightly in reply. A ghost of a smile twitched upon his thin lips, pleased she was so joyous.

Eagerly, Belle slipped on her shoes and bounded up happily. Lady merely perched her heads up once, then back down uninterested at the venture. Excitement coursed through the beauty's veins like fire making her want to wrap her arms about his neck and hug him.

Stoically restraining the desire to do so, Belle beamed brightly at him like a ray of sun.

Grinning, Rumpelstiltskin performed a small, jesting bow that he could manage with his twisted limb and flourished his hand to the garden gate still locked with a thick steel chain. "Shall we, Dearie."

Belle crinkled her nose pleasantly and giggled at his antics. No matter what realm they lived, or how he looked, he would always be the Dark One with his jest and quips and odd demeanor. He would always be Rumpelstiltskin, and in a way the thought was soothing to her.

Happiness flooded the fiend as he limped to the back gate and prepared to introduce Belle to the town of Storybrooke.

For a brief moment second thoughts bounded to his mind as he fiddled with the lock. A small frown tugged at his lips worriedly. What if a taste of the outside world left her craving more; made her become ill content?

Shoving the thoughts away and focusing on her bright, eager grin, Rumpelstiltskin let the chain fall away into a heaped pile by the door and let it open with a high, teeth grating squeak.

The world outside the residence of his pink home looked like utopia to Belle's cloistered senses as they stepped out from the garden.

The fiend busied himself locking the redwood door securely behind him as he allowed his Belle to drink in the image of society and life outside the plaintive walls of his large home.

A slew of cars went rolling by the quiet, oak lined street and few people meandered down the sidewalk, each enjoying the warm day even while in the shadow of Mr. Gold's residence.

"There are rules to this new freedom." Rumpel stated quietly as he limped beside her, his chestnut eyes suddenly cold and hard. "Out of the house I am Ray or Mr. Gold, nothing else. Until I deem otherwise you may never leave my line of sight and if you try to flee…" He left the dire threat hanging unfinished.

Belle squared her shoulders determinedly, refusing to be daunted by his zealous possessiveness. "I won't try to escape. I told you before, you have my word."

Mr. Gold smiled thinly at her declaration as he led the way into town. How he desperately wanted to believe that.

~8~8~

"Over there with the black board out front is Granny's Diner." The businessman pointed to a small building adjacent to a homely bed and breakfast. "One the other side of the street is Marco's workshop. And two streets down in my cluttered establishment." He smiled wryly, with perhaps a touch of devious pride. "Needless to say, it's not a very active spot in town. Most people go out of their way to avoid it."

The beauty gazed about wide eyed in curiousness. Though part of her mind told her she should have already knew where everything was, it was different to truly see it for the first time. "I could have never imagined any of this in my wildest dream back in our world. The steel carriages drawn without horses, glass candles that light with the flick of a switch, chests with tiny people cavorting inside."

"Technology is this world's magic, Belle." Gold remarked astutely, but his tone was unimpressed.

True, there were many things in this world that were wondrous, but it would not last. Those in the tiny town could enjoy the novelties of this realm for 28 years and then all would be as it once was and his life whole.

"Mr. Gold, a moment if you please." A handsomely accented voice resounded behind him, interrupting the fiend's thoughts.

Fighting the urge to let forth a dark profanity, Ray turned about to see the scruffy, Sheriff Graham padding towards him determinedly.

The Dark One turned his steely gaze to Belle and motioned his head nearly imperceptibly along the narrow street. "Why don't you have a look around for a bit; spread out and window shop. I'll be only a moment." He promised and limped a few paces to meet the sheriff.

Taking the hint, the beauty nodded dutifully and gave the pair space for their obviously private chat.

"Now just what." Gold paused as he stopped inches from the broad shouldered sheriff gazing at him sternly. "Is this all about?"

Graham stared intently at the Dark One with his lupine, misty eyes or gray; his stance dangerous and feral like the huntsman of old ready to leap into action. "I wanted to warn you about the recent string of robberies and break-ins. We've gotten reports about four men in forest green jackets and bandanas robbing homes. While most of the stuff has been appearing in the soup kitchens and cloth drives, we need to bring these men in."

"As far as I know this has been going on for a small while." Gold shrugged and eyed the sheriff curiously. "Why now come to me, Sheriff?"

Slowly looking about for any eavesdroppers the officer crossed his arms over his dark leather jacket and whispered lowly. "Regina's place was hit last night and she is none to happy."

Gold could not contain a wide grin at the knowledge some one had possessed the daring to heist some things from the Madame Mayors mansion. Part of him wished to commend their nerve if he truly knew who they were.

"Well, I dearly hope you and Regina were not home at the time these robberies occurred." He jabbed cruelly to mock the sheriff.

Graham looked away, shame clouding his bearded cheeks in a ruddy discoloration. If word ever got out, or Mr. Gold let others in gossip hungry town find, that he, the law keeping sheriff and the Madame Mayor were bed mates then…

Straitening his tie, the Dark One chuckled lowly, reveling in the uncomfortable air radiating from Graham. "Well, if that's all, Sheriff, I and Miss French will get…"

His words escaped his mind as he turned about and Belle was nowhere to be seen.

Rumpelstiltskin jerked around fully to look at the entire line of gray side walk on either side of the street. His eyes scanned the rows of shops as dread pooled like frigid fire in his belly.

There were not many people to be seen strolling out down the sidewalk, but none of them where Belle; she was nowhere in sight.

It was only then he noticed the ad for 'The Game of Thorns' florist shop with an address and a contact number for Moe French stapled upon on one of the telephone poles nearest to where they stood.

Below the ad was a host of tacked on cards with one of the address slips missing….


	8. Promises to Keep

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing, you wonderfully awsome people!_

**~8~8~**

"Something wrong, Mr. Gold?" Graham inquired suspiciously, his curiousness raised at the sight of the wealthy businessman suddenly looking panicked. Never in all his time being sheriff had he seen Gold's emotions change so drastically. The business man was always coolly confident, never allowing anything to phase his steady composure.

Forcing himself to quell his sudden panic, Rumpelstiltskin smiled thinly, keeping his tone nonchalant and eased. "Not at all, Sheriff. I thought I saw someone I remembered from long ago." He lied smoothly.

Inquisitiveness twitched upon Graham's bearded features dubiously. A brow arched as his hard eyes sat riveted to the pawn shop's owner, but he nodded slightly in feigned aquiesence. "Alright then."

Tipping his cap, Graham stalked off to survey the rest of Storybrooke, leaving an immensely worried Ray behind.

Barely hearing the Sheriff, Mr. Gold limped off, stifling the urge to shamble down the street in a quickly limping gait yelling out her name. Terror sloughed feverishly through the veins of the notorious businessman like a tsunami of panic. His sly, brown eyes scanned the streets and lines of shop intently as though she was melded in with the quaint brick buildings.

Where was Belle?

"I told that woman if she ran…" Rumpel murmured darkly under his breath, his rage stoking higher with every second she was bereft of his sight. He dared not utter the rest of the threat least some honorable soul overhear what rage sparked darkly in his black heart.

How could he have been so foolish to actually trust her! How could he have allowed those deep blue eyes to veil her cunning and make his resolve weak!

He was a fool, Rumpelstiltskin thought infuriatingly to himself, wanting nothing more than to send his fist colliding into something to vent the anger coiling like a serpent deep in his belly.

Rage, conjoined with his ever spiraling hysteria, fed his adrenaline as he coolly limped towards the Game of Thorns with fire stirring in every fiber of his wiry form. A livid sneer wrenched upon his rough face, telling all who dare meet his gaze the most dangerous man in town was suddenly even more perilous than before.

His Belle would pay, Gold promised direly. His gloved hand curled in a vice over his cane till the flesh and knuckles of his fist were pallid as fresh fallen snow.

The beast of Storybrooke was on the hunt, and oh she would pay for abusing his generosity!

~8~8~

The first thing Belle registered in the strange, waking world was all consuming blackness suppressing her normally bright mind in a smoggy mire of confusion. Dizziness swam languidly in Belle's skull as consciousness began to coalesce back over her flitting senses. Nausea and pain hammered in her head like dwarves in a mine. All about her darkness felt thick and gloomy marring her thoughts and making her dance the precarious line betwixt consciousness and oblivion.

Where was she? What had occurred?

"Anna?" A voice somewhere seemingly far away shouted out to her worriedly. "Annabelle?" The tone was nearly pleading with sorrowful desperateness; desperation she knew very well.

Her features crinkled roughly in pain as she forced herself to pull closer to the cognitive, world and not be lured back into sweet nothingness. "Papa…?" Belle mumbled, her voice slurred and laced with pain.

Slowly, the hurt beauty sat herself up on her elbows in attempts jar herself back fully into consciousness. Agony hit her like a fierce blow to the head even at the small movement. For a moment she very nearly blacked out again, but somehow managed to hold the last thread of conscious.

Stoically pushing down another horrendous wave of nausea gushing over his form and making her stomach pitch and heave tremulously, Belle grit her teeth in sheer misery.

With a firm will, she dared to open her eyes just a crack to get a hold of her surroundings. Warm light cascaded down upon her mingled with the bright hues of greens and blues and light purples of azaleas and other flowers all tucked neatly into glass vases or planted in pots.

Strong, but in the same instance weak hands helped her sit up. "Oh thank goodness you're okay Anna." Maurice blubbered a long winded sigh of relief. "I didn't know you'd hit your head on that flowerpot."

Flowerpot? The word sparked a memory in her mind like a flash of lightening jolting her senses.

After Rumpelstiltskin ordered her to give him and the sheriff distance she had rambled further down the street to appreciate the displays artistically placed in the homey storefronts. That's when she spotted her father, or more appropriately her father spotted her whilst she stood gazing curiously into one of the clothing shops at a peculiar pink gown.

For a rather corpulent man, he stalked up to her quietly and before she knew it his hand was wrapped about his upper arm and he was dragging her through a narrow alley.

Belle had not screamed, for she had immediately recognized her dear Papa, though he looked ragged with his clothes haphazardly strewn upon him and dirt under his nails.

Before she could ask him what he was doing, or even recall her promise not to get out of sight, he brought her to a white van filled with brown ceramin flowerpots and tossed her in the back. The last thing she heard was a sharp crack of ceramic and all went black.

"It's alright, I'm fine." Belle hissed in pain, feeling the words were far more lie that truth. Agony erupted like gouts of flame all about her skull making her simply wish to lie back down and close her eyes.

Dabbing the back of her head gingerly, she felt the numbing coldness of ice mingled with the damp warmth of just drying blood clotted in her matted russet tresses.

Maurice grabbed her free hand ardently and squeezed tight in jubilant compassion. Tears pricked his dull brown eyes joyously to see his wonderful daughter for what felt like the first time in eons. "Forgive me, I'm sorry for doing that to you but I saw you with …that monstrosity and I knew I needed to get you away. I knew you wouldn't come along willfully with him so near."

Shaking her head slightly, the beauty instantly regretted the motion, but willed herself not to yelp in pain or empty her stomach. Holding the cloth stuffed with ice to the back of her breached skull, Belle's delicate features knit in confusion. "What…I don't understand."

"You're a good daughter, Anna, and I can no longer bear to watch you work for that slave driver to pay off my debt." The florist explained gently to his only child like she were a little one all over again. His face, once soft and kind, tensed angrily as hate blazed fiercely like an uncontrolled inferno in his eyes. "After I got sick and he threatened to close the shop, I was so grateful you made a deal to be his housekeeper, but now, after the rumors circulate on how he treats you, the long unforgiving hours he makes you work to just try to wipe my un-paid loan clean is to much to bear."

"What are you saying?" She asked warily, feeling dread steep in her gut.

Rising stiffly, the aging flower shop owner plodded behind the small counter of his establishment where his dusty register sat. With a few quick taps of the buttons, the register flew open and he withdrew a bulging white envelope in one smooth motion.

Hope and defiance stapled victoriously upon his bloated features as he waved the thick packet eagerly. "I've been saving some cash off the books for quite some time, Anna. It's plenty for you to take the van and leave Storybrooke and that beast Mr. Gold behind. Once you get out, I want you to sell the van for scrap and take all the money to go live your life away from that beast."

"Papa…"Her voice tapered off in surprised disbelief; touched he would do something so noble. Such had always been her father's way, trying to forge a path for her to tread where the road was easy and her burdens light. He was giving her an opportunity to flee from her master and live her own life.

To say the thought of taking the money and running was not a coaxing allure would have been the biggest lie the beauty had ever uttered. Rumpelstiltskin was a fair man and often kind, but that did not take away from the fact he was her captor and master.

The thought of true freedom once again in her own hand to do as she pleased hummed jauntily through her bloodstream. With the money she could be free just as she had been before the before Gaston, before the ogres, before the deal to sell her very life away to the Dark One for eternity.

The choices would be endless, Belle's mind shouted jubilantly, filling her imagination with day dreams of a life of her own! She could finally be her own woman and mayhap travel to a fabled city such as Boston or all across the continent!

The wondrous dreams of traveling their strange land and being free were great temptations indeed, but... Belle nibbled her bottom lip in indecision. Despite her hopes and wants suddenly ripe before her, not only was it impossible to leave town, she had given Rumpelstiltskin her eternal word.

"No." Belle replied at length, her voice shaken with emotion and determination. Even if there was a way to leave, or even take the money and procure a lawyer for her safety away from Mr. Gold, she knew she would not abandon her word of honor.

"No?" He echoed surprised.

She shook her head, though cursed herself again. "I have a contract with him, to work until you are out of debt." At least the untruthful memories whispered that was the specific contract.

"Annabelle that could take forever!" Moe protested fervently, his jowls wobbling. "You know how much I borrowed from him; a kings ransom! You'll be an old woman before half is paid!" He jabbed a thing finger at the parcel. "This is what's best for you."

The beauty shook her dark amber mane with as much will as she could despite the intense throbbing in her head pounding like a drum. "No one decides my fate but me, Papa. That's why I chose to make a deal with him and honor it."

All her life others had been trying to spin the thread of her fate to weave of her what they desired. She hid a grim, sardonic smile at a sudden thought. If one thing could be said of her dealings with her master, it was that their deal was truly of her very own doing; her own one real choice.

"Even when that bargain costs you a lifetime?" Her father inquired desperately. Anna had always been a strong willed girl, even as a small child wanting to do things on her own and make her choices, but could she really handle the task of working for the hard hearted Mr. Gold?.

Wincing at the thumping paid radiating from the back of her skull, she shrugged trying fastidiously to keep her resolve. The beauty managed to clamber waveringly to her feet. Her dark sapphire eyes glinted proudly. "If that is my price, then so be it."

Slowly, the beauty fought back a deluge of dizziness and padded over to her father, her depths deep and warm. She pressed the packet of money back to his vapidly rising chest and lovingly wrapped her hand over his.

Anyone could see the tallow appearance of his skin and the wheezing fluttering painfully from his thick lips, there was illness in his great form. "Take the money, go to the doctors, and get better. I'll be fine. Mr. Gold is not the monster everyone makes him seem. It's not a laborous chore working for him."

"I wish I had your optimism, child." Moe smiled sadly and patted her hand gently.

Belle beamed at her beloved father. "Well, I'll just have to make it rub off on you. I have a few free hours before going back to work." She lied carelessly. "Let's go for a walk and talk about old times."

"Yes. Yes I'd like that." The florist seemed to brighten a bit through the sickness at the thought. For what little it was worth, it did do his weak heart good to see his daughter. Part of him had the crazy notion he would never see her again, though he could not for the life of him understand why. It wasn't as though Mr. Gold owned his daughter.

Shaking the feeling away, he led his only child out into the brilliant day as they chatted of the false memories sitting in the corner of their minds and enjoyed the afternoon.

For Belle, being with her father and talking of younger years when the world seemed right was a small distraction to what hell she knew was coming.

~8~8~

"Where is that little liar!" Gold growled angrily as he paced the dimly lit kitchen anxiously like a caged panther.

Hours. He searched Storybrooke high and low for hours and came up with nary a trace!

The first place had obviously been her blasted fathers shop, but even with the rented van still there, with no sign of hurried departure, they were nowhere to be found.

Many, many hours later he had decided to call it a day and limp home in a rare case of defeat. The calm part of Rumpelstiltskin wished to head to the authorities to track her down, but he was none to keen to allow Guy Stone any opportunity with his Belle or dredge up anymore suspicion with Graham.

His ancient mind whirled with uncontrollable rage as the darkness lingering in his wiry frame mocked the weakness of kindness he had allowed to manuver him into the entire situation. Belle had played him and made a mockery of his compassion!

Where could she be, he thought maliciously and scratched his chin with fingers that wished to rip and tear and slash in his rage.

The forest engulfing Storybrooke from all sides was an option, but was she truly desperate enough to seek sanctuary in the cold wilds?

Curling his hand into twin fists he fought the urge to shatter everything in the kitchen with his cane. Running his fingers through his straggly brown hair, he swore viciously. "When I get my hands on-."

Abruptly the front door creaked open causing him to jerk around.

Without wasting a moment, the fiend pawed for the gun on the table and limped off determinedly to the front. If she tired anything…

A million thoughts tumbled through his vast mind. What if she had recruited Guy Stone to make certain she was free of the house, what he she decided to take matters in her own hands?

All thoughts save those of pure fury slipped from his head as he turned a corner and saw her standing there humbly upon the threshold of his pink home.

The wind swept her thick mane of brown about playfully, and the last, brilliant rays of day streaked with streamers of red and dusky purple illuminated her pale, but gorgeous features.

Bravery glimmered in her cerulean eyes and her head was held proud and high like a warrior about to face demise.

Slowly, the beauty closed and locked the door behind her, though her entire body shook at the movement. She barely had time to turn around to confront her master when the end of his cane slammed violently into the side of the door, inches away from her face.

Fear coursed through her blood, making her knees weak, but she ordered her body to keep still. Biting her tongue stoically, Belle forced herself not to scream even though every nerve in her figure desired to do so.

The fires of hell smoldered in his whisky brown depths perniciously. Striding a few inches towards her, his mouth sat in a twisted, dangerous sneer of wrath.

"And just where have you been all these hours?" Rumpelstiltskin barely hissed through thinly, parted lips. The words seemed to growl from his throat like a rabid beast than come from his mouth.

Belle swallowed hard, her body as taunt as a drawn bow. "I was enjoying the last day I would probably be allowed freedom from your household."

"After what you did, lying so brazenly to me, you can bet you will not be leaving this cage anytime in the even remotely distant future. I do not care for my property wandering off let alone manipulating me." He snapped cruelly.

For a brief second pain lashed across his hard features before melting like frost in the heat of his rage. "How dare you run off. I allow you a freedom and you spit in my face by trying to escape! Is this how I am rewarded for my fair, nay, kind treatment of you, Belle; you waltzing in anytime you please after a failed escape!"

"I didn't try to escape." Belle proclaimed gently trying to subdue his frothing fury. She held to her innocence tenaciously, her eyes blazing as fierily as his though for different reasons.

Gold cocked his head slightly to the left. "Oh? Then by all means elaborate on your disappearance." Came the dire, threatening reply.

"You must promise me that if I tell you, no harm will befall others." She parried strongly. No matter what she could not bear to put her precious father into hot water, even if he was the cause for such dysfunction in their tenuous peace as master and slave.

The Dark One nearly gaped astounded at her sheer, brazen nerve. How dare she ask such a thing! His sneer blackened dangerously, his eyes narrowing into two fine, brown slits. "Don't you dare ask anything of the sort from me."

"Then I will keep silent and you may do what you will to me." Belle retorted quietly, her heart racing in a dead gallop.

"Have no doubt, punishment shall be incurred swiftly and remorselessly." Rumpelstiltskin replied in a slithering, threatening hiss as he banged his fist perniciously against the door, causing his slave to jump. "If you desire to be so blatantly disobedient, I shall have to treat you like all my other possessions by keeping you always in the house from now on." He snarled, even more angrily than before.

In truth, he was desperate to hear her so called excuse; desperate not to think the worst of her. Ignoring the darkness whispering in his ear, the fiend nodded slowly. "But it matters not, what crafty webs you try weave; it's all lies so I suppose I shall promise no harm shall come to any one in your little conjured tale."

Relief shuddered warily from Belle's form at the promise. She nodded once, grateful for the boon he did not have to supply.

"I was window shopping across the street where you and the Sheriff stood and I ran into my father." She began. " Before I could do anything he grabbed me and hauled me into an alley where he tossed me into his van and drove me to his shop. He wanted me to escape Storybrooke with his debt still unpaid and my contract or other broken with you."

"Let me guess." Rumpel mocked furiously and swatted his hand through the air frivolously. "You said no." The fiend concluded, though his voice was laced thickly with dubiousness. "How stupid do you think I am, Belle!" He roared, making her flinch. In the blink of an eye he grabbed the front of her sun dress and pulled her close to his rage fevered body. "No you see, I think you remember the unpleasant little fact no one can escape Storybrooke so you decided to crawl back here with a pathetic little story of your honor in hopes to assuage your owners accursed wrath. Why didn't you call or find your way back if your tale is true?"

"I gave you my word I would be yours forever. I'm not lying." The beauty swore reverently, hoping he would see the truth in her eyes and not hurt her, yet he was blinded to all else but his agony and rage.

His lips pried back in a furious sneer as he glared intently into her cobalt orbs. "Prove it. Prove it and I shall not take away all you love and hold dear, or burden those you care for."

Maneuvering her hand, the beauty dabbed the back of her head and brought back bright crimson flakes of dark dried blood almost like a desperate offering to quell his rage.

For the second time that day, Rumpelstiltskin was taken aback by somthing he did not expect. Words escaped his mind as he stared down at the testament to her innocence. There were indeed many things she could conceal in lie and half truth, but not such a wound.

"I hit my head on a flowerpot when he tossed me into the back of his van." Belle explained somberly. "That's why I had no time to get back to you or leave. By the time I awoke it was late anyway. I knew you would be furious with me so I spent what little time I could with my ailing Papa before facing you. Perhaps it was selfish of me, not to come straight back, but I dearly wanted to see my father again and talk. I think..." She paused and breathed deeply. "I was also afraid of your anger."

Rumpelstiltskin's fingers lightly brushed over the crust of dried blood upon her fingertips, his own quavering at the sight. The magical monsters voice was suddenly bereft of any rage only soft awe and alarm. "You're hurt."

All anger evaporated like mist in the summer sun. In that one instance no longer did he think of how she had reneged upon her word, but that she was hurt and in pain, and…not lying.

"I'm fine…" Belle lied. The wound still throbbed even hours after the incident. She smiled faintly to hide a grimace. "Though I dare say its good proof."

"Indeed." His replied, his tone absent as though the accusations had been spirited away from his mind.

His touch once, cruel and demanding turned gentle as he led her to the kitchen. Protectiveness reared in the Dark One's head overriding his blazing fury and dousing the flames of anger. "Come, let's put some ice on that and see what I can give you for pain."

Belle stopped abruptly, a brow lifted surprise and incredulity. "You…you are not angry at me anymore."

Rumpelstiltskin's mouth was one thin, cold line fraught with worry over his Belle as he escorted her into the kitchen and into a chair. Once calm, with relief flowing through his veins, her words made sense; far more sense than his thoughts of her hiding in the woods like some outlaw of old.

"You know." He remarked quietly as he produced an icepack from the freezer. "I do think I owe you an apology." Looking down at his hands, his mouth curved into a conflicted frown. "I did not think you would willing come back."

She had returned to a beast and faced his wrath. She had kept true to her word.

Perhaps he could trust her…

Perhaps.


	9. Trusting

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! This chapter was kind of difficult to write because classes want to keep me busy and all . Anyway, enjoy!_

**~8~8~**

Despite the last incident of Belle's freedom past the dim threshold of the Rumpelstiltskin's home, incredibly, the fiend did not deny her the right to once more stroll the streets of Storybrooke. Rather, and much to Belle's fathomless surprise, he began to allot her more time outside his massive dwelling.

Even after what had occurred before, the Dark One allowed his Belle still small instances outside the salmon pink mansion to enjoy the town of their curse. They were only small errands under a stringent amount of time, of course, but ones the magical monster knew she cherished dearly.

Asking her to associate with the small hamlet, never failed to make her beam with delight. To actually be trusted by her captor with a task out of the sullen walls of his dwelling illuminated her every being and in turn brightened his world.

Part of him found it quite ironic the panic which had festered and boiled sickeningly in his gut those weeks ago, had actually made him trust her more. Words could not describe the relief that flooded his wiry being simply knowing he no longer needed worry if she would flee while he attended his shop.

Trust brought freedom for them both. For Rumpelstiltskin, freedom from nagging thoughts that constantly whispered worry in the back of his mind and for the beauty real emancipation for her to walk the streets without his gaze upon her, or him hovering near.

It wasn't a solid, unwavering trust that could stand the tests of time and trials, but trust enough to content them.

Laughter bubbled merrily from between the beauty's lips as she watched the tiny dog, Lady, playfully chasing golden butterflies betwixt the asphodels and marigolds.

Her bright red tongue lolled from the side of her snout as she sprang and nipped happily at the completely calm insects fluttering about their business in the mild morning.

Early morn in Storybrooke was the only part of the day the beauty dared spend a great amount of time out doors in summer months. The days themselves were scorching with the unblinking golden orb beaming ruthlessly down upon them.

Only a few instances a day did she ventured out to water her plants and keep them from wilting under the harsh eye lodged in the firmament.

A soft smile crossed Belle's mouth as she turned away from her companion and ran the pads of her fingers across the velvet petals of a fully bloomed rose. While not the most illustrious plant in her tiny garden she was proud of the stunted, yet flourishing bush nestled in the shadowed wedge of the house. The roses possessed a shy almost demure quality of mystery tucked away in their private niche.

Days of meticulous caring had brought it back from permanent death and a trip to the weed heap, now it was changing from something mostly thorny and gangly and horrid, to something more becoming, more handsome.

Almost like…_him_.

Bright crimson erupted in Belle's porcelain cheeks even at the thought. Admonishing herself sternly for such a thought of the master, she expertly snipped the only rose she desired from the bush.

While she had plenty other flowers in her small wicker basket, she desired at least one from her toils with the rose bush to stand out from the heaps of other lovely plants harvested to make Rumpelstiltskin's home have a little splash of color here and there. Twirling the rose between her fingers, the only question that remained was where to put such a lovely flower. Of course it would have to be some place she loved, to stand out proudly.

Holding the exquisite rose up to the cloudless azure sky, she admired its delicate beauty. For something as simple as a flower it looked akin to a mulled ruby perched upon a stalk of jade. The dew upon its velveteen petals sparkled like diamonds twinkling in the summers golden rays.

"Admiring your handiwork I see." Rumpelstiltskin observed gently from the shadow of the doorway. A ghost of a grin etched upon his thin lips towards his Belle. Planting his cane before him, he stood in his usual uncaring fashion, just upon the threshold where home met the dewed lawn.

Though the weather was atrociously hot in the afternoons and evenings, he never wavered from his sharp, fashionable suits no matter the hottest of days. A crisp black suit and black silken shirt under it garbed his form dashingly.

Belle flushed and forced herself not to stare at her master, her eyes trying to look anywhere but upon his form. He was a handsome man in his own way, though she had never minded his gray-gold scales in their true home.

Putting her small wicker basket of picked flora down by her side, she shrugged bashfully, embarrassed by his accolades. "It's not my handiwork, I simply tend to them in hopes they will not loose their beauty."

"Ah but you do it so well." The businessman retorted tenderly, his chocolate brown eyes glimmering warmly.

Her garden, while lovely and neatly tended, wasn't much to speak of. Patches of bare, mounded ground beckoned to be filled with vibrant petals and bundles of lovely flowers to meander about the back yard.

No, it wasn't much, but Rumpelstiltskin smiled every time he caught her out in the sunshine, enjoying the little leisure's of her constrained life. He found himself wanting to bestow praise upon her at every turn concerning the small garden, wanting to make her feel it was not simply an enjoyable chore to keep her from going stir crazy.

For a moment, they both stood, somewhat embarrassed by his kind words. Awkwardness simmered through the air like heat lines hovering from the asphalt.

Though they both tried to deny it, things had become more open with them after she came back. True trust was forged between master and slave, making them both open the vaults to their hearts a fraction more.

Rumpel coughed into his fist trying to beat back the awkwardness assaulting his figure and making him want to blush fiercely. Expertly, he changed the subject to combat the oddness sitting within. "Well, I…I'd like you to go into town today. I left a small list of things on the table."

"Of course." Belle replied obediently, her tone not masking the pleasure in her lovely voice. Every time he allotted her permission into the outside world, it was a display of trust; something she wished to cling to with all her being.

He managed a genuine smile, though almost warily as he began to walk back into the dim confines of his home. "Then I'll be on my way. I'll see you this evening."

"Rum." Belle abruptly breathed his name like a wary confession.

The Dark One turned about immediately as though she had uttered a command. His heart felt like it leapt into his throat and lodged their, stifling any words that could have tumbled from his lips.

Why did his body cry out with every word she spoke?

"I…I wish to give you something." She continued determinedly. Forcing herself to be brave, she stifled the press of awkwardness and the feeling swirling inside her belly like the butterflies dipping and pitching about the garden.

Padding over to him slowly, the beauty deftly clipped a good portion of the rose stem away and presented it to her master humbly. "Here."

Rumpelstiltskin could only watch numbly as the beauty tucked the brilliant carnelian tinted flower into the outer breast pocket of his suit. Her hands diligently perched it securely right atop his frantically drumming heart where all of Storybrooke could see.

Belle took a step back, admiring the rose upon his suit, her eyes alit happily. "Perfect." She laughed gaily, and clasped her hand together pleased.

The bright red contrasted nicely with the obsidian darkness of his suit giving him a touch of gentlemanly flare.

The Dark One let his finger rove over the soft satin of the crimson petals in disbelief her hands had been there only moments prior. His heart smashed wantonly against his chest merely thinking of it!

Heat surged through his body, making him want to loosen his rather choking collar and shed his jacket, but he fought the urge resolutely in front of the woman who caught his blood aflame.

The summer days never affected him much, even in the heaviest of suits, yet when his lovely Belle was near his body felt it was baking on the inside and out no matter the temperature.

Looking up to her smiling, lovely face, he offered a small bow. "Why thank you."

Belle giggled; pleased he enjoyed her simple token and curtsied in reply.

As the fiend left his home in the already rapidly heating morn, he couldn't tell why his heart seemed to soar unlike most days when it was a weighted load stone drowning him in thoughts of his past wrongs, and nor did he care.

The rose pinned upon his suit felt like a badge he displayed proudly upon his journey to his shop.

Even trying to focus upon the day he could not, for his thoughts utterly revolved around his lovely slave girl and the feelings boiling inside him stirred into a frenzy by a simple rose.

~8~8~

"Good afternoon, Gold." Regina greeted in her normal careless manner as she strutted primly into his dusty establishment.

The last customers of the day, who bravely ventured into the businessman's shop, made a small nervous gestures to the mayor and scurried out like a rats caught between two hungry cats.

In mere moments the shop was deserted of all customers leaving the pair alone in the dimly lit light of the pawnshop. Dust swirled through the atmosphere and the chilled air from the air conditioners brought a damp musky scent into the establishment like wet, aging paper.

If the Madame Mayor minded in the slightest it didn't show upon her marble smooth features.

Sighing pleasantly, Regina closed the door behind her and flipped the open sign to close for a small amount of privacy in the Dark One's shop.

Gold grunted rudely at her unexpected presence. Trouble trailed the mayor like a pungent odor, something the fiend was in far too good a mood to deal with. "Regina, what can I help you with today?"

"You know." She smiled slyly. "It reached my ears this morning by a certain dimwit Guy Stone that Moe French's rent seems to have been reduced nearly by half. Oh I suppose you tried to keep the matter quiet, but our friend Mr. French just can't seem to keep his mouth shut from an old family friend."

Rumpelstiltskin restrained from flinching, even though the words hit him like a blow to the ribs. Focusing all his will upon the antique register open before him, the businessman counted the days earnings seemingly unfazed by the harpy's mocking words.

"If all you've come to do is tell me abut my own business dealings, Regina, I think you need to pick up a hobby." Gold remarked sourly, his lips twisted into an unpleasant grimace.

Regina shrugged nonchalantly and busied herself inspecting a dusty, silver gilt tea set and decanter. Rubbing dust between her fingers, she uttered a mirthless chuckle. "I just found it interesting that the miser who never eases up on rent unless it benefits him in some way absolves one of his biggest debtors a sizable chunk of money and said man just happens to be Annabelle's father."

The Madame Mayor glossy crimson lips curled deviously in a cruel grin. Her voice was childishly taunting to mock the Dark One. "Aw, does the big bad Rumpelstiltskin have a little soft spot for his slave girl?"

The grim businessman slammed the register closed with a violent force but kept his same easy composure. "I see nothing wrong with that. As you said, I only maneuver rent and payments around when it benefits me."

"Oh? And loosing money benefits you?" The witched arched a thin brow inquisitively.

A large, feral smile slithered upon the Dark One's rough face. "Every night now since those weeks ago." He lied hoping Regina would catch his meaning.

Regret lashed at what little was left of his conscious like a flail cracking into his body. He did not wish to lie about something like that with Belle, but his pride was too great to be demeaned by the pompous harpy before him. Despite all his attempts to keep the situation quiet, only to Belle to brighten her day and grace him with her lovely smile and sincere admiration, the word still slipped out.

Regina's pallid features wrinkled in disgust at the mere indications of his words. She sneered morbidly. "No wonder his rent went down so drastically, she must have bargained a hefty sum to bed you."

"I can well afford it, Majesty." He shrugged casually, seeing he had exhausted her cruel taunts and wound inflicting jabs to his pride. Leaning slightly against the counter he grinned wolfishly. "But come now, what's the real reason you've dropped by, hmm?"

Fury crackled against the mayor's flesh. How she hated being defeated by one such as he. Smiling coldly Regina slipped a hand in her leather purse to reveal a black lacquered pamphlet.

Demurely, she slid the invitation over to the Dark One, trying to seem calm and unperturbed by his words. "Storybrooke is having its annual congratulatory ball for its elected mayor and charity benefit for the police and fire station. I'd like for you to attend."

"You expect me to loiter at this waste of time?" Gold asked incredulously, his wiry finger pointing to the invitation as though it were an animal carcass she had thrown upon his counter.

"Oh you don't have to come alone." Her lips spilt into a wide ruby slice. "You can bring a date."

A half smirk twitched upon his features as he slid the invitation back towards Regina. "Fortunately, I have much better things to do with my time."

The mayor merely allowed a thin smile to cross her lips as she backed away from the register, leaving the invitation in placed and briskly strode out of the shop.

Once she had departed, Rumpelstiltskin muttered a dark profanity that was drowned out by the jangling bell above his shop.

~8~8~

Ominous grayish-black clouds that threatened rain were just beginning to roll over the cursed town of Storybrooke as Mr. Gold strode home. The trees were starting to sway and roar with the rustling of the full boughs and the cool wind heralding the summer storm on its fast approach.

Wisps of his straggly brown hair whipped against his skin whispering the warning to find shelter before the first drops of rain plummeted to earth.

Usually the businessman took his car to the shop, but some days when his knee was not wracked with torment he chose to take the lengthy stroll to his establishment and back simply to relish in a few more faces blanched with terror seeing the man that held their livelihoods and homes in his pocket.

At least he would make it home before the rain, Rumpelstiltskin conceded grumpily as he began the last lane towards his home then the turn to the row of houses where his was located. The thought of Belle waiting for him with his normal cup of tea, made a pleasant smile crease his lips despite his surly mood. After dealing with the harpy, Regina, being with his Belle would be a breath of fresh air.

Turning the corner surprise jumped in his spirit to see a brown and white police cruiser set right outside upon the curb next to his home.

Ignoring the pain screaming his maimed limb, the Dark One hobbled hastily to his salmon pink home. Had something happened to his Belle? Did some disreputable character try to do her harm while she was out running errands?

Limping up the walk, sweat began to dot his crinkled brow at the sight of the door left ajar. Slowly, the fiend forced himself not to burst into his own home, but gather what little remained of his control.

With the silence of a cat's shadow, the Dark One entered his home, his ears strained for any sounds of weeping or anger or screams cast from his Belle's lips. He slowly crept to a dresser where he always kept a gun handy, only to pause at the sound of voices.

"So how 'bout it, Annabelle?" Guy Stone's strong timbre echoed eagerly from the kitchen. "Will you come with me?"

Anger instantly replaced terror in the Dark One's soul faster than the unexpected summer shower just beginning to rumble over the town.

Stone, Rumpelstiltskin forced himself not to curse as rage swelled within his wiry frame; he should have known that idiot would come knocking for Belle, his Belle, sooner or later.

Bags crinkled and dull thumps resonated from the kitchen as though his Belle was putting things away. "I'm sorry, Guy, I'd like to but…" Belle's voice paused as though searching her brilliant mind for words to some excuse.

Excuse for what? The Dark One asked himself, but shook the thought away.

Gritting his teeth furiously, the fiend hastened to his kitchen to find out what was going on and why the deputy was in his house unlawfully and chatting with his property.

Guy leaned over the island in the middle of the kitchen demandingly, his eyes wide and hoping. Finally he had managed to catch her out of sight of her employer and now she was grabbing for straws not to have a chance to be with the best man in town, or so he thought of himself. It made no sense to his small amount of functioning brain! "But what, Anna?" He pressed. "Is i-"

"What's going on here?" Gold interrupted suspiciously as he stalked into the kitchen.

Agitation played upon the deputy's chiseled features, whilst Belle's seemed to relax in unabashed relief her master had arrived.

Plodding closer to his Belle, the Dark One scanned her intently; though spoke to Guy dangerously in his sly way. "Something wrong deputy?"

"Not at all." He cleared his throat and smiled ozzingly at the beauty. "I just stopped by to ask Anna if she'd like to be my date to the fundraiser ball like old times."

"She will not." Rumpelstiltskin declared angrily, unable to control his overflowing rage towards the idiot trying to take away the beauty.

Normally he could keep his cool countenance, but not with Belle's former fiancé in his home asking her if she would go with him. No, Belle was his and his alone; no one, not even her former betrothed would change that.

Stone slid a hand to his holster, his eyes narrowing. "That's not your choice. Anna isn't your slave; you can't just tell her what she can and cannot do." Quieting his snarling tone he turned to the beauty, hoping his defense of her would garner him some favor. "What do you say, Anna; are you going to come with me, or is there something unlawful keeping you back?"

Belle looked from one to the other, her words flagged and stumbling. "I…I…"

Truly she did not wish to go with Gaston, if he was still the pig headed lout he was in their old world, which looked to be the case, but if she said no then surly he would become suspicious if Rumpelstiltskin was doing something illegal to restrain her and then open up things she would rather stay closed.

"Miss French can't go with you." Rumpelstiltskin replied once more, but his tone was even like his normal, dangerous self. Limping closer to his Belle, he wrapped a hand possessively over her shoulder and smiled thinly to the deputy. "She's going as my date."


	10. Dresses and Dates

_So much love for reading and reviewing, Lovelies! Hugs for all!_

**~8~8~**

"Date?" Belle's brows knit confusedly as she trailed behind the vapidly limping Dark One. "I don't understand; a date for what exactly?"

Though she hastily went along with her master's cunning ruse pertaining to be his supposed companion in order to get rid of the pushing, arrogant Guy Stone, she was befuddled as to what she was actually agreeing to attend.

Rumpelstiltskin did not answer her query, but smiled in grim satisfaction as he watched the sleek police cruiser speed away with an infuriated Guy Stone at the wheel. Grunting lowly in satisfaction he continued his slow trek through his house.

The entire home felt like it needed to be all scrubbed down and purged of the moron's presence like villages purged a home of plague. Sneering, Gold sniffed the air furtively as though catching a whiff of something unsavory stirring upon the wind. His lips wrenched in disgust for even the air was heavy with the brute's foul cologne.

How the Dark One's blood churned with rage knowing that the idiot of idiots had dared waltz into his home and attempted to sneak his Belle away from him!

Part of the fiend knew he shouldn't have been so possessive of her, but it was an urge he had trouble suppressing. Being by his Belle awoke a feral protectiveness and fierce ownership of her inside his form like a dragon rankled from slumber. He wanted to be the only one in her life as selfish as it was. In simplicity, he did not desire to share her with anyone; especially not Stone.

Quickly shaking away the troubling thoughts of why he felt so attached and fond of her, Rumpel forced himself to focus on the present and what was to come. Now that he indeed was to attend the deplorable ball, much had to be done in preparation.

Digging into his inner breast pocket, the fiend produced the folded invitation and handed it to his dutiful slave absently. "The mayor's celebratory ball and charity for the police and fire departments is what all of this is about." He explained in a drawn sigh.

Belle examined the dark lacquered invitation closely, her cerulean eyes strafed over every line carefully detailing the ball and its honors and speakers. Did he truly wish to attend such an event practically in Regina's honor in a room with people that undoubtedly wished to see him put in a cell or with a wound to his person? Was it simply mere jealously which prodded him to blurt those words to Gaston, or something more, some deep rooted desire to attend with her?

"I can't go." She stammered and handed him the crinkled invitation warily as though he might explode at her reply.

Rumpelstiltskin was not a man to take no very well, of that Belle knew imperatively. Anxiousness slithered up her spine, her nerves taunt and ready to leap into action at a moments notice if his mood soured further. Guy Stone's presence had darkened his humor to something brooding and surly and dangerous.

A determined steely glint now sparkled in his beastly eyes when he looked at her; a look that made shivers coil icily up her spine. Whether the feeling of his eyes riveted upon her was pleasant or unpleasant Belle couldn't tell. He looked at her like she were a coveted treasure, only the gaze was much softer and perhaps even tender in its own way.

Rumpelstiltskin huffed slightly in amusement at her tremulously spoken words. A faint grin stretched upon his lips as he leaned heavily against his cane. "You act as though you have much a choice. How bold you to tell me what you shall and shall not do."

The beauty dipped her head lowly in bashful apology. "Forgive me; I should not have taken such liberties. I know overriding your order is not something you appreciate, but nevertheless I cannot be your date to this event." She reiterated bravely, knowing she was toeing a hazardous line.

"Worry not; date is simply an expression, Belle. I by no means desire to give people the impression I am courting you." Rumpelstiltskin retorted calmly to soothe her fear.

His smile abruptly fell away at a painful thought that abruptly slashed his fragile spirit. No, no woman, not even his kind Belle would want the grim title of 'Mr. Gold's mate' hanging about their neck like a rotting albatross. Not even his former wife had wanted such a crest by being married to a cowardly cripple.

He would not be so cruel as to mark Belle with that particular shame, the Dark One decided finally. She deserved many things, but such a horrid relationship to him was not one of them.

Fire dappled her porcelain cheeks involuntarily though she wished to simply hide the pink tint upon her cheeks. Even thinking of him trying to woo her, was utterly preposterous, and yet set her heart somersaulting in her chest.

To the luscious beauty such a consideration was vastly idiotic. Even to remotely fancy the master would want some day dreaming, odd, woman such as herself with no power at all to be considered a love interest was mind boggling.

Here in this world, he was still puissant in his own way and she…she was merely Belle, the daughter of a flower shop owner who could not pay his debts. Surely there must have been another powerful woman to accent his riches and superfluous influence rather than a slave girl.

"Oh no, it's not that." She assured him truthfully. Ignominy filled the beauty, making her tilt her head down bashfully unable to meet his warm, brown gaze. Chewing her bottom lip demurely she heaved her shoulders in a helpless shrug. "It's well…I have nothing decent to wear to this event. This ball is to be fine suits and gowns, the latter of which I lack."

It was not as though her closet was rife with illustrious gowns and fabulous dresses in all styles. Her closet contained a few modest dresses, some jeans and blouses, and one light jacket folded somewhere, all which essentially comprised her wardrobe. Other than that, she held a sparse amount of winter clothing in an old dusty chest, none of which was befitting a ball.

"Is that all?" Gold grinned widely, trying to hide the utter amusement in his voice. Forcing himself to abandon the pain still festering as an open wound in his heart, he once again slipped into the guise of the Dark One. He laughed lightly, and waved his fingers through the air carelessly. "Belle, I am the richest man in town. I could sell my shop at this very moment and still live extravagantly forever. We shall go out tomorrow to search for a decent gown. Ask what you will and I shall purchase it for you."

The beauty smiled warmly, her heart hammering dully in her chest. She was to be the Dark One's date! "It won't be much. All I'll need is a dress and a pair of shoes."

"Whatever you please, Belle-of-mine." He chuckled lowly at her shyness.

Her simple beauty and contentedness still surprised him even from her first days in the Dark Castle. Belle never once complained in the massive citadel. She was satisfied with a pile of straw for a bed and a peasants dress as her only clothing. From the beginning she had not been like other princesses. She did not bemoan her fate or a loss of her rank and title and riches. She was never one of noble creed who gloated and fawned over their own beauty and baubles made to paint their faces and adorn their bodies.

Belle would much rather spend her time deeply entranced in a book rather than entranced in a hand mirror primping her coifed hair done up in the latest styles and basking in her own delicate beauty. Content happiness for the simple things in life like a warm meal and a hot bath were one of the things he lov-…liked, he replaced firmly in his head, _liked _about his Belle.

"Very well." He nodded slightly. "We'll depart in the morning. It shouldn't take long for two items."

Of course, how long could shopping for a dress and a pair of shoes be?

~8~8~

Early evening tinted the cloudy sky by the time the pair returned fatigued and bone weary back home to the Dark One's manse.

The day, while long, had been a success or so Rumpelstiltskin surmised wearily. Limping tiredly into his neatly cleaned living room, the fiend sunk exhaustedly into a thick arm chair and rubbed small circles about his temples. The extravagant room was gratefully dim, allowing his head ache to throb a fraction less and let him think clearly. His maimed leg pulsed with pain, and a head ache was on the brink of exploding in his skull after such a day.

Sometimes their world's new technologies and extensive choices could be a tedious pain.

On an after thought he made a mental note to assign some one such as the well liked waitress Ruby or the grade school teacher Mary Margaret to accompany Belle if such things where to ever happen again. Shopping was definitely not one of his strong suits, he knew strongly, nor would it ever be.

Why did a small town shop need so many dress and gown patterns? Why did shoes come in three million shape, sizes, and colors? And why, he sighed languorously, feeling the mounted exasperation slowly begin to dwindle, when the two were put together become a monumental task?

Endless combinations heralded from the two shops, so that he could only watch his Belle pityingly being swept up by former ladies in waiting in their old world. The women who once dotted upon princesses and queens now turned dress makers and shoe saleswomen tittered gaily about her like a flock of gabbing geese and ferried the beauty down endless rows of dresses and other garments.

Armed with measuring tapes and pins, they had delved in excitedly to do their best and turn her simple beauty into something ravishingly magnificent.

Whatever they were aiming for neither Rumpelstiltskin nor his Belle could see it no matter the _dozens _of dresses that appeared as if by magic from the vast racks and bottomless back rooms.

In the end, Belle had shooed the women off and picked something out she thought looked rather becoming.

The Dark One was too busy trying to clear his head outside away from the silks and lace to see what she chose, but that in turn left his Belle to keep it a secret until the day of the ball, something he had no quarrel with.

She had chosen a few other things he had indulged her, for in truth; he found he liked indulging his Belle from time to time. If it brought even the smallest of grins to her face, then whatever the items price made it worth it for the Dark One.

"Forgive me, Rum, I did not know _that _was to be expected." Belle sighed and shuffled wearily into the living room. Her body eased tiredly unto the couch, just as run down as he.

The day had flown by in a whirlwind for the beauty, unused to the more expensive boutiques of Storybrooke and the excess of silks and wool and cotton. Her mind was afire with the events of the day and the special air he seemed to conjure for her as if in apology she had no choice but to accompany him to the ball.

Though she did utter apologies, the businessman could see her lovely face flushed with excitement and joy. Despite what she claimed, or the forgiveness she entreated, he knew she had enjoyed herself immensely. A day out and about the quaint shire of Storybrooke, actually in the shops and talking to more people than ever before made his Belle practically glow.

He flicked his hand dismissingly. "I am satisfied you found something to your taste befitting the occasion."

"Yes. I hope you approve as much as I." Belle remarked nervously, her clever fingers plucking nervously upon cross stitch thread of the gray skirt she wore.

Gold smile tenderly at her wary elusiveness. For a moment he dared let himself think she was excited to accompany him to the mayors ball, and exuberant to show him her gown like they actually were in an intimate relationship.

Of course they were only day dreams, but there was no harm in a few moments of self indulgence to what never would be.

He inclined his head slightly in reply. "I am sure it will be lovely."

Nothing, he decided, right then and there, would ever not look utterly ravishing graced upon her figure. Beauty, so delicate and lovely, such as hers could not be marred with clothes or make up, for those things could not drape the wondrous soul beneath the supple flesh.

Belle smiled warmly in reply, though in her heart she wished she felt as assured as his statement.

~8~8~

An uncomfortable aura draped Belle like a shroud of thick mist wreathed over her figure as she made the last finishing touches to her hair in the floor length mirror of her room.

Worry swirled in her belly like a thousand butterflies swarming at once in every different direction. Blood gushed and pounded swiftly through her veins in excitement. Would her master like it, she pondered curiously? Would he think she, for a woman who barely lived outside his home, made a good choice in what to adorn her figure?

Truly, she liked what she picked, but what she wore reflected upon him. What if he thought it to tame, or perhaps to brazen, or perchance simply did not like it?

Why did it matter at all what he cared for; Belle scolded herself firmly, though could not make herself fully believe those bolstering words. She desperately wanted to be her own woman, free of what others thought of her and normally she was, but not when it was he who was to observe her.

Part of her, as crazy as it sounded, wanted him to whole heartedly approve of her wear without an inch of fabric being out of place, or nothing at all wrong that he could see.

Though she attempted tenaciously to stifle it, some little inkling of her wanted him to think she was…pretty.

Belle scolded herself again rather harshly at such a juvenile thought. Such considerations were more befitting a teenager girl with her high school crush rather a grown woman who was strong in who she was.

Putting on her earrings she tried to shake the nervousness from her shoulders like a thick shawl, but it clung earnestly to her, filling the beauty with agonizing dread.

"He's going to hate it, I know he will." She whispered loathingly at herself as she smoothed the last few wrinkles from her dress.

Never in all her life had she felt so open, so vulnerable, and for the life of her, the beauty could not figure out why. All her life she was bold, and brave, and daring, but for something as simple as a gown, she felt nervousness flickering inside like a wildly guttering flame.

"Belle." Her master's voice echoed up to her room faintly. "Are you nearly ready?"

The beauty sighed, trying to dredge up her flagging courage. There was no turning back now. Snatching up her purse, she slowly slipped from her room, anxiousness dogging her every petite step.

Rumpelstiltskin paced at the bottom of the steps, almost as worried as the lovely woman on the second floor. At the base of the stairs, the tiny dog amusedly watched him pad back and forth. Such silly things humans were, the animal remarked in its head, before carelessly sniffing off somewhere else to day dream about its love.

The Dark One barely gave the animal a thought whilst he waited every tenuous moment for his Belle. With a dexterous flip of his hand he opened a gold pocket watch to check the clock for the fifth time that evening.

His mind whirled insatiably with dire thoughts. What if she had decided to back out? What if she had decided no reason, no threat would ever make her accompany herself with him?

Running his hand through his straggly hair, the fiend cursed himself lowly. What a fool he was to assume she would not get cold feet and refused to come. Who would want to attend anything with a beast?

"I'm ready." Her beautiful voice announced anxiously from the top of the stairs making him abandon his worried thoughts.

Rumpelstiltskin turned his head in her direction and instantly forgot the way to breath.

A golden gown, simple and exquisite garbed her stunning figure all the way down to her ankles. The honey hued garment was sleeveless exposing the creamy flesh beneath but only to her elbow where long white gloves took over and tapered to her delicate hands.

A modest **'****V' **neck line dipped upon her swelling chest exposing a small patch of porcelain flesh begging for some sort of gem to be displayed. Her earring were simply tear drop pearls, but accented nicely with the golden fibers of her dress.

Light danced in her rich, russet mane that flowed freely down her shoulders; each curling off into a tight ringlet that flounced with ever step. The only make-up upon her breathtakingly beautiful features was merely a dab of the lightest pink upon her lips as though the early dawn had kissed her mouth.

Though the Dark One had dressed in one of his more elegant suits, in the same chic black, he felt like a pauper swathed in rags when looking upon her. The dress and everything upon her fitted her perfectly. It was simple and basic and yet utterly, mystically enchanting; stealing his senses away.

To Rumpelstiltskin she did not look like a mere woman coming down a flight of steps, but an angel descending from the firmament. Standing there numbly, looking up to his wonderful Belle, it was then he realized it was not she who needed to feel anxious for going with him, but by far the other way around!

Taking the steps terribly slow, Belle rubbed her upper arm nervously, her lips quirking, not daring to look at him as she stood only a few inches before her master. His face was a carefully neutral, unreadable mask not giving away a hint of what transpired in his mind.

"Do you…do you like it?" She inquired bashfully, feeling more exposed than any time she could remember.

He wished to say something, anything, but all words escaped his mind. Nothing seemed adequate to express her beauty. Words were paltry things indeed to announce how she looked, how his very breath was stolen by awe of her.

"Amazing." He whispered in unabashed impression. "Your choice was…inspired, my Belle."

The utterly gorgeous beauty beamed ravishingly at him, unable to quell a smile towards his simple praise. For the Dark One, had he died at that moment, he would have perished a content monster knowing the last picture he had burned in his mind was the image of the very epitome of loveliness.

"But." He added slowly, forcing his mind to function though all he desired to do was stare at her in all her ravishing glory. "I wanted to give you something else. I didn't know how it would fit with what you were wearing, but now I think it would make a good addition."

Belle blinked at him curiously. "What is it?"

"You'll see." The Dark One replied slyly. Making a spinning movement with his hand he motioned for her to turn around. "Close your eyes; it's a surprise."

As she obeyed, he dipped a hand into his pocket to reveal a long black case. Opening it quickly, a line of twinkling diamonds upon a bed of dark blue satin glimmered in the light. A fortune had gone into acquiring such jewels, but she thinking of how they would look upon her made it worth while to the Dark One.

Reverently, Rumpelstiltskin placed the necklace of glimmering diamond about her neck as though he were honored merely to be so close to one as lovely as she.

Belle's eyes opened feeling the coolness of silver and diamond lay upon her warm flesh. Tilting her head down, her azure eyes alit in stunned surprise. "Rum, it's beautiful."

"It's yours after tonight." The fiend revealed, unable to keep away a wide smile.

Placing a slightly quaking hand upon the cold, faceted stones, Belle's face looked stricken with awe. "I can't accept this. These jewels must cost a fortune. I am only a slave, why would you…"

"Because you are mine, Belle." Gold explained kindly. Lifting her chin with the very tips of his fingers he smiled down upon her serene features letting her gorgeousness shower him. "Because you are mine."

The pair remained in still, togetherness, until the mantle clock in the living room struck out in its somber melody.

"That's our signal." Belle murmured lowly, breaking the silent spell that had fallen upon them like deep blankets of snow.

Rumpelstiltskin held out the crook of his arm in a gentlemanly manner, a slight grin resplendent upon his face. For tonight she was not a slave and neither was he her master. Tonight, they were…on a date.

"Shall we, Belle-of-mine?" He offered pleasantly.

The stunning beauty only replied by slipping her arm into his and smiled kindly to her master turned date.


	11. Date Night

Mr. Gold's luxury sedan rolled to a crunching halt up to the sprawling home of Regina Mills' residence some time after nine o'clock. The home glowed vivaciously with bright light illuminating through gauzy gold curtains in every window and the gentle tune of expertly plucked harps drifted out from the dwelling in delicate harmony along the tranquil night air.

Parking his sleek car on the opposite side of the street, Rumpelstiltskin let the vehicle run for a few minutes longer to gather himself. With a deep breath, he closed his eyes for a moment and focused on his strengths to lend him aid. It would not do him any favors looking like some dull witted peasant unable to take his eyes of the beauty of his Belle.

Appearances were essential for the pawn broker in all his dealings. Too many people wished to see him brought to ruin or perhaps do it themselves. To seem aloof and in control was imperitive.

The mayor's house was an austerely trim, ivory and black Victorian mansions sitting akin to some regal queen along the long row of beautiful houses. Columns flanked either sides of the red door and wound all about the home like an ancient roman villa. The tall, black rod iron fence surrounding the harpy's manse was covered in thick, dark green ivy leaving only the gates unmarred from its impenetrable entanglement.

"Such a large place." Belle commented softly in awe. Creeping shadows battled with the street lights and the glow from the house upon her face as she stared wide eyes at the white colonnaded dwelling. Laying her palm upon the cool glass, pity laced her sweet voice. "She must be terribly lonely living there by herself."

To be in such a grand dwelling with not another soul had to be difficult to bear day in and day out for all eternity. How could one person live like that for long without going raving mad?

Gold snorted derisively towards her kindly observance. Even though his Belle was wary of the Madame Mayor, she still felt compassion for a woman who treated her as though she were nothing more than the dirt under her feet. "All magic has a price, my Belle, hers could be loneliness."

"What a horrible burden." The beauty remarked lowly as she opened the door to the car. Who could bear to live a life of forever with no one to enjoy it with? Even the Dark One had a companion, though one obtained from unscrupulous means.

The summer air possessed a faint bit of chill from a storm approaching the quaint shire making Belle shiver pleasantly in the darkness and the open atmosphere. Honeysuckle and lavender drifted fragrantly upon the wind, making the currents alive with the summer night. Above them all in the satin firmament, glimmering stars twinkling merrily like frolicking fireflies dancing through the ebony fields.

"We all have our burdens to bear, Dearie. Some are not as bad as others, while there are those that make us ask was the price worth what we gained in return." Ray murmured in a coarse grunt as he slowly maneuvered his aching leg out of the car.

He should know, Gold grimaced inwardly at the thought. His burden was worse than most for his cumbersome load was also his power. The price of magic was one he could have lifted from his back that long night ago in forest with Bae, but instead he'd only added on to the fathomless weight continuously until he was smothered under it; until he was a slave to the darkness festering in his heart.

Shaking the thought away, the fiend smiled wryly and limped to the curb. "Like your burden of selling yourself to a monster." He explained dryly.

At that, Belle pulled her mouth to one side playfully, her eyes shining mischievously upon her date. "You forget, my master, there are burdens some of us gladly carry."

"Indeed." Rumpelstiltskin allowed something akin to a half smile nervously grace his thin lips in retort. True, her words were most likely in jest, but his back-flipping heart did not seem to construe them as such. Surely she could not look at her indentured servitude as a price gladly paid.

Why could she tamper with his heart so, he pondered curiously and with more than a small inkling of worry as he helpped her across the deserted stretch of asphalt. Was he sincerely that fond of her, or was this world making him soft?

Awkwardness enshrouded them like the summers night, making the pair wish to look off in separate directions of the voided darkness. Silence reigned betwixt them for what seemed like eternity till the Dark One coughed nervously into his fist. "Well we might as well get this over with." He hefted his cane and pointed insecurely to the front door of the large manse regally displayed before them.

"Of course, Ru…Ray." Belle corrected timidly with a small dip of her head. "Forgive me, I'm still so used to calling you Rumpel."

"None of that now, Belle." Mr. Gold admonished gently as he sidled closer to her.

Her delicate feature crinkled furtively at his meaning, unable to understand exactly what he was referring to. None of what?

Sighing, Ray allowed a small, indulging grin to twitch upon his lips. Light from the home glinted merrily in his chestnut orbs as he looked forward but spoke to her. "You do not seem to understand the power you wield even for a mere servant." He gently pulled her to the side of the curb hidden behind the leaves of ivy to explain out of sight from curious eyes. "You are closer to me than anyone else in Storybrooke. Those in that party will give you due respect because of who you are and your affiliation with me."

"But to them I'm just a house keeper." Came Belle's retort laced with insecurity. Worry hinted at the fringes of her voice as she nibbled the side of her bottom lip.

Gold chuckled heartily, endearment creeping up upon him once more like a master thief. "The difference is that you are not simply a care taker of small renown." On a whim he touched the side of her cheek only to feel warmth spring to her flesh. "You are mine." Taking up her arm in a gentlemanly fashion he straitened his midnight black suit one last time and adjusted his choking tie. "If you're with me you must appear confident as well you should. No shyness, no timidity; confidence. "

"Confident." Belle repeated as though it were a foreign word, dedicating it to her soul, as they walked to the imposing gates. Curling her free hand up into a fist, she inhaled the warmth of night and smiled at her master. "Got it. Anything else?"

Standing at the black gate, the Dark One involuntarily patted her on the arm. "Enjoy yourself."

Tilting her head down, the beauty was thankful the shadows hid the fierce blush that surged upon her cheeks. Rumpelstiltskin for all his snarling and snapping and coarse beastliness could always successfully make heat flood her flesh with his unexpected kindness or tenderness though she had no logical idea why only he could coax such a reaction from her.

Mystery enshrouded the man who thought himself a monster; mysteries that went beyond his secrets and cunning.

With one smooth motion, the Dark One opened the gate. The hinges barely made a ear spitting creak as the Ray Gold and proffered his hand inside.

~8~8~

Regina could not suppress a wide, victorious grin creeping upon her glossy lips as her eyes pinpointed the limping form of Mr. Gold and his little slave girl enter quietly into her monolithic mansions.

The pair subtly slid their way along the wall, trying to remain unnoticed like roaches. Oh but that would have been utterly impossible, the mayor retorted inwardly to her cunning. Her plans were far too ingenious for them not to have attended.

All it took was a little prod by innocently suggesting to Guy Stone to perhaps invite Miss French. Now Rumpelstiltskin, the terror of the known realms, was traipsing through her white and black décor home in his normal surly manner with the girl on his arm.

Swirling the crystalline wine glass in her grip, she took a sparing sip whilst her glassy eyes never once left their forms for further observation. He kept his free hand always lightly curled about her upper arm. Every now and again he would pull her back just a fraction or squeeze her arm lightly in some sort of warning or perhaps nervousness.

The Dark One was extremely possessive of his things, Regina noted with another demure sip of her champagne. His fierce possessiveness was excellent for what she had in mind.

~8~8~

The home of Regina Mills was as lovely on the inside as it was in the out. Ebony and alabaster were the main colors for the extravagant rooms, giving it a rather unctuous feel. Golden chandeliers hung above the pleasant gathering showering the rooms with a near blinding radiance as though all under their beams were basking in Regina's glory.

In any other instance, Belle would have enjoyed herself immensely in such a strange new expanse different from the Dark One's mansion, but one particular disturbance destroyed what little gaiety she possessed.

"Regina's been staring at us since we walked in." Belle informed the frowning Gold as they stood tucked into a small corner of the grand ball room located on the bottom floor of Regina's estate.

The beauty leaned lightly against an ivory column a small beaker of un-alcoholic punch lying forgotten in her grip.

His deep frown lessened slightly as he flicked his gaze in boredom over towards the Madame Mayor who did not even attempt to veil the fact her eyes were stapled upon them even while some short fellow was jabbering about right in front of her.

"You noticed as well, I see." He huffed and rapped his wiry fingers upon the golden hilt of his cane in unsuppressed agitation.

The beauty toyed with the glass cup in her hands before chancing a true look over Regina's way.

Amused, at the servant girls brazenness, the hostess dipped her head slightly towards the pair, and continued to stare like a vulture waiting for a sick animal to finally perish.

Slimy shivers trailed up Belle's spine at the cold, corrupted glare, but she forced herself to square her shoulders and offer a small pleasant nod in return. She was to act as something belonging to the notorious Rumpelstiltskin's, the beauty reminded herself; confident, unafraid.

Pleasantly, Belle returned the gesture much more demurely, her graceful form crackling with the nobility of ages past having lain unused and unwanted for nearly a year. Finesse lined every trace of her peach tones skin, making her seem far more genteel that the witch.

A frown pierced the Madame Mayors pallid, striking features at such boldness making Belle wish to cheer. Instead, she turned away coolly as though the former queen were not worth her time and forced her lips not to shift into a proud smile.

"Do you have any idea why she's been staring at us all evening?" She queried to the Dark One.

"I have a few guesses." Gold admitted in a heaving sigh, his shoulders slumping. His lips twisted into a distasteful grimace as though he had just eaten something rotten. "I'll find out in a moment."

Leaning his back against a column, the fiend surveyed the beauty doing the exact same. Just to see her all dressed in finery, her face bright and cheerful and curious, made it worth letting Regina have her little moment.

Truly at ease with the entire thought, the Dark One, nudged his head to the milling throngs all chatting in low murmurs and lurid voices. "Off with you. I've been your shadow long enough for the evening. I think you'll find people more willing to be friendly instead of merely polite if I was not dogging your every step."

Belle's faced brightened even more so, taken off guard by the trust he deemed display. "Thank you. I'll not go far."

"I'm allowing myself to trust you." Ray stated abruptly, not certain why the words blurted from his mouth. Perhaps to simply let her know he was stepping out of his comfort zone of relying on her to keep her word.

Should she decide to flee, he couldn't very well stop her in the middle of a room filled with those who would stop him no matter his reputation.

"And I thank you for that trust." She smiled softly up to him.

Caught in the radiance of her happiness, Gold allowed a large grin to crease his face before rising to bite the bullet and let Regina gloat.

Before he could move an inch the form of Sidney Glass appeared before them both with a large, black camera slung about his neck. "Picture for the Daily Mirror." He revealed all in one quick phrase before snapping a photo of the pair caught smiling endearingly at one another.

Mr. Gold blinked as the light flashed unexpectedly in his eyes, leaving blue and black dots spotting in his vision. Annoyed, the fiend forced a dark growl between a flagrantly false smile. "Mr. Glass if you would be so kind as to not take pictures of me I would be much obliged. Other wise that camera of yours might become… inoperable."

Glass blanched as he lowered his camera, his sunken eyes wide with sudden fear. He knew a threat when he heard it, especially from Mr. Gold. "Okay, no problem. Oh, sorry about that."

Ignoring the writer for the town's paper, the beast snarled and shoved past him to limp towards Regina.

"Oh well, at least I can say I got him on film before big foot." Glass joked lamely to the beauty.

Belle attempted a small smile at the quip, but it withered quicker than it came, much like the jest. For a split second they stood there in awkward silence, with Belle staring at her crimson reflection her the cup, before the camera beeped off and began to echo the sound of whirling gears.

Of course, Belle knew what a camera was precisely, but it was interesting to see such a marvelous contraption at work for the first time.

Sidney hummed a little ditty absently as he tinkered with the camera until something began to poke from the base. "Ah, here's what I was waiting for." Glass smiled and took the appearing picture from the bottom of the camera. Flapping it briskly for a few seconds he handed it to the beauty primly. "Souvenir." He explained before stalking off for more photos.

Belle stared at the photo in surprised pleasure. The picture was simply in black and white and caught them staring at one another and smiling just at the perfect moment. Rum's face was etched with the rare grin she liked to fancy he saved only for her, and there it was caught forever in her hand.

A gentle smile tugged upon her features as she tapered her fingers across the still warm image of the Dark One. It was much more than a souvenir, it was something precious; a priceless treasure. Rumpelstiltskin possessed many trinkets and curios and treasures, now, she thought proudly, unable to keep happiness from swimming through her form, she had one of her very own.

"I hope that one goes in the paper." A voice suddenly stated in a light, nervous laugh, interrupting Belle's wandering thoughts of her master.

Perching her head up to the speaker, Belle was greeted with a well built man with short brown hair wearing a slightly crinkled suit. "Others should see how pretty you are." He finished with a dazzling grin.

Belle smiled widely at the compliment, unsure what to say. What could she say to a man that was obviously hitting on her?

"I'm Whale by the way." He stuck out his hand and added not so nonchalantly. "_Doctor _Whale." As though his title would give him more appeal.

Before Belle could make acquaintances another voice entered the fray. "He likes telling people that." The other voice laughed and walked in from the left. "I'm Sheriff Graham."

The beauty began to open her mouth to greet them both and yet another walked up just as dashing as the next, and behind him another making his move…

~8~8~

"Mr. Gold, how fortunate you could make it." Regina chuckled lowly as the fiend approached in his limping gait.

The Dark One shrugged in tactful carelessness, letting the words run off him as a sword blow to a shield. "I just thought I'd swing by and show my support for our police department and our eternally elected mayor."

Satisfied beyond all reason, the monarch coyly circled her painted fingertips around the thin rim of her glass. It was simply delicious to see the tongues of black flame behind his eyes flare with every moment. Him trying to down play his loss only made it better.

"So tell me, how did Guy Stone take to finding out you were accompanying Miss French?" She mocked innocently, unable to resist the poisoned barb.

A low, vile laugh pulsed from the mayor's full lips upon seeing the anger rush to the fiends aged face like flames upon a dry haystack. Taunting the Dark One was never wise, but when she could get away with it, it was the sweetest of victories.

"Don't try to tell me otherwise, Gold." She spoke plainly and clucked her tongue. Only looking at him with a few knowing glances she watched the bubble rise and fall in her drink absently as though they mattered more than he ever would.

He snarled angrily through thin drawn lips. "Tell you what, Regina?"

"That you don't care for her, of course. " The sorceress laughed in a low timbre. Her eyes narrowed slyly as she tapped the side of her chin with a finger. "Admit it, you've got a soft spot for her and as we both know soft spots are a weakness. Isn't that what you always told your apprentice?"

Leaning her head to the side, she perched an eyebrow, her lips twisted in devious amusement. "Speaking of that little slave girl, my, what a crowd she's drawn in so little time."

On instinct the Dark One turned about to see his Belle surrounded by a horde of bachelors from Storybrooke. He could barely make out scraps of her golden gown from between the bodies of fine suits.

Swamped in men trying to vie for her attention seemed to be her current state.

"Doesn't it simply infuriate you, Gold?" Regina taunted coquettishly. "To see all those young, strapping bachelors trying to flirt and woo her."

A black curse spewed quietly from between Rumpelstiltskin clenched teeth. Anger flared within his dark heart. He had made a stupid error, he knew. Instead of keeping his Belle closer, he for prides sake, allowed the most eligible men of Storybrooke to wait for his departure and pounce upon her like a pack of rabid wolves over a wounded doe.

Belle's name did not mean beauty for irony's sake. She was aptly name in that regard for every reason both inside and out.

Rage wished to fly from him and charge toward her and knock over every male in his path like ninepins, but he stifled the urge and turned back to Regina. Quelling his roiling emotions, her determined to focus on the foe in front instead of the woman behind.

He forced a shallow smirk. "I don't see why. In the end I know whose bed she'll be frequenting."

"By how ardently they look to be trying to win her impression, you might have to share your toy soon should one come out the victor." The harpy laughed cruelly causing the fiend's black blood to heat perniciously.

At that, the Dark One could not take the knowledge half the most eligible men on Storybrooke were trying to flirt with his Belle, and potentially succeeding. Enraged, he swiveled away from Regina, feeling the searing heat of her triumphant smile branding the back of his neck like iron and flame.

Helplessness swarmed Belle's senses drowning her under the press of smiling faces and gentlemanly greetings. Never in all her life had so many men been congregated about her. In her fathers castle many men sought to pander for her hand in marriage, but it was all so different in their old realm.

She couldn't keep up with the smiling faces nor the names that belonged to them. Confidence dwindled from her every second, making her wish to run into the arms of the Dark One.

"Miss French, a moment please." Mr. Gold's low, dangerous voice echoed out like thunder over the waves of men.

It seemed almost within a blink of an eye the throngs cleared and drifted away like smoke upon the air. His dark tone was akin to a dragons roar bellowing over the baying of wolves. If they were wolves then he was a dragon, commanding respect by his mere voice. While they would have liked to continue vying for the beauty's attention, having the Dark One hovering over them was not a fanciful prospect.

His face was marred in a dark frown as he limped stoically towards his Belle. Regina was no doubt looking at them and his actions were only proving her right; he did have a certain soft spot for the beauty.

Casting a small glance over the receding men, he turned back to her, his brown eyes flashing with the leftovers of his fury. "Was I interrupting something." He asked coolly, his tone a sliver of pure, blood chilling ice.

To his surprise Belle shook her head and swipes a stray tendril of hair from her face in relief. "Thankfully yes. You saved me from that morass of horrid pick-up lines and awkward flirting."

"Glad I could be of service." He quipped wryly, making a giggle tumble from Belle's lips.

He was the only one who could ever bring laughter so quickly bubbling from her heart, or make a grin so suddenly play upon her lips. That fact was not lost upon the beauty who withstood a barrage of men without once giggling or a genuine smile.

Her laughter made the annoyance weaken in his heart and almost made him forget of the grinning Regina…almost. Smiling slightly he let his eyes trail down her lithe figure once more

A thrill coursed down his spine simply knowing with satisfaction she belonged to him. Beauty half the most eligible men in Storybrooke sought would depart home with him. "Are you ready to leave?" He inquired with one more look around the dull get together.

The part was not much save the little clusters of people like the town DA and a few more notables who controlled wealth in the town.

"Quite." She grabbed his arm, not caring who saw and sidled close to him as though he were her shield to keep back the hungry stares of those who sought to win her besotted affection. "You know I think I've had enough of Storybrooke's elite. It's nice and all, but I'd rather just be in a sweater and jeans and be in the living room with you."

Surprised by her words, uttered so sincerely and honest as though she were telling the truth, the Dark One did not even notice Regina's gleaming stare as they left the party and began the drive home.

The entire trip, while not very long, was a silent one, as both contended tenaciously with their thoughts like battling a foe. But not even a car ride in stony quiet could beat back the thoughts of one another; not when the other was so close, they could hear their breaths.

As they arrived home, Rumpelstiltskin, the perfect gentleman, walked her arm and arm to the door as though he were leaving her there after a date. A smile valiantly tried to bloom upon his features at the thought, but he supressed it staunchly.

One porch light remained on out side the darkened home like a beacon in a sea of blackness. Moths danced entranced around their glass and bulb idol as the Dark One and his Belle stood outside the door.

Both knew what would occur once he unlocked the door and they stepped inside the dim manse.

She would be his slave.

He would be her master.

The spell of their 'date night' would be broken into un-mending pieces like and enchantment by a fairy godmother. What little tenderness and feeling they had deemed to display would once again be locked up behind the walls of their hearts leaving a gaping whole where something was missing, but they dared not fill it.

Rumpelstiltskin looked about the darkness nervously before he spoke sagely. "I hope you enjoyed the evening."

"I did." Belle nodded bashfully. "It was generous of you to take me."

Gold allowed a small chuckle to escape his lips. "I am afraid not much of me qualifies being labeled generous."

"Oh it does." Protested Belle. Tapping her finger against his suit she grinned kindly all the while forcing herself not to run her hand up the expensive fibers of his suit and wrap her arms about her neck. "You just can't see it."

Simply staring down at the only woman who had never wrenched her lips in a sneer of him, the Dark One felt regret of a wasted night run through his heart. Coward that he was, if he had made it an official date with her, dared to be bold and brazen, he probably would have kissed her at that moment.

Instead he unlocked the door and the spell was shattered...

Belle was only too happy to abandon her dress by the time she entered her room on the second floor of Rumpelstiltskin's home. Folding it away carefully into her small closet, she slipped into a comfortable pair of blue pajamas that clung nicely to her figure.

Before she retired for the night however, she sat upon the wide bed and stared fondly at the picture of her and the Dark One taken by the newspaper reporter.

Sighing with frightening new emotions she felt for her master, the beauty placed the picture upon her night stand before she crawled tiredly under the thick covers. With one quick flip, she turned off the light and closed her eyes, determining herself on the morrow to find a frame for the one special instance of the night.


	12. The Truth

_A/N: Yay, quick updates are quick! ^.^ . Thanks for reading and reviewing everyone and have a rocking Thanksgiving! Don't forget the sweet potato pie!_

**~8~8~**

"Again, Lady?" Belle smiled amusedly at the tiny brown down digging at a certain plank of the fence.

Clumps of dark, moist soil and patches of mounded earthy, grass flew up in the air as the canine stuck to her zealous task of digging at the plank she had long ago managed to squeeze through. Her tiny paws were blindingly quick whilst she threw herself in an ardent fervor towards her goal to slip past the fence once more.

The beauty watched curiously from the side as she watered the flourishing flowers, none to keen on getting her pearl blue dress that clung fittingly to her form and came right above her knees sullied by dirt.

"I'd hate to be the bearer of bad news, Dearie, but it seems like your mutt is clawing at the lawn with vigor." Rumpelstiltskin's pointed out jestingly as he carefully strode out into the garden and the over cast light of morning.

Laughter tumbled from the beauty's lips at her companion's ignoble efforts to bypass the towering red fence. After so many months around her strange dog, Belle knew exactly what Lady was up to.

The beauty smiled pleasantly at her master as she announced conspiratorially. "She's waiting on her gentleman caller." She shook her russet mane towards the tiny animal and smiled wider towards her canine friend. "Worry not, Lady, your prince charming will be here soon enough."

Of course she knew the reason for her normally quiet, pleasant companion to act like a wild beast; her love was to arrive soon. What she first assumed to be some mean, snapping stray chasing Lady the day she'd arrived and scrambled under the fence, turned out not to be the case at all.

Belle first noticed the mangy gray sniffing about the home after Rumpel allowed Lady to stay to keep his servant company whilst he worked at his shop. Lady was smitten with the ragged hound, and often stared at out the window for him, her tail wagging happily and wet nose fogging the glass as though waiting for his patched furred hide to race down the road.

Gold face twisted in mock distastefulness. "Surely you don't mean that wild, matted haired mongrel that sniffs around the neighborhood and raids the garbage cans every night like some bandit. The bane of all animal control."

"One and the same." She assured in a laugh as she busied herself by watering the rose bush nested by the house.

True, Lady's love wasn't a, for lack of a better word, handsome dog by any means, she admitted. His fury was a dull charcoal gray with patches missing and the rest matted with refuse and the elements. Pieces looked like they were torn from his ears in fights with other dogs and long, jagged fang protruding from his snout would make anyone wary of such a creature all alone.

"I thought your dog would have better taste than that." He commented and looked at the digging animal with a 'for shame' kind of glare.

Belle sighed endearingly and sat down the tin watering can near the fence. Her deep, cerulean eyes searched her master fondly if not with a tad amusement. "Sometimes the things inside do not mirror what's on the outside no matter we want people to believe."

The beauty often wished to meet Lady's companion, but was wary of the thin, sulking beast. Unlike the tiny pooch who adored sitting on her lap while she read, the other dog looked malnourished, though she had tried to offer it food once and a while, and actually looked part wolf. There was a wild feral tint in his strange gray eyes that looked almost human….Almost like Rumpelstiltskin

Lady, on the other hand, never minded how utterly rabid her fellow canine looked. Everyday she when they ventured out into the garden she would sit at the same plank of aging red fence and wait.

"I think…" She continued warily, unsure how much the wellspring of her heart was overflowing into her words and hoping it would not betray what lay blossoming in the shadowed reaches of her soul. "That the outward is merely a ruse. He puts such a deception up, with his hackles raised and showing fangs, making himself look rough and dangerous to guard himself because he's afraid of what will happen if other see the truth beneath. The truth Lady sees."

The Dark One's heart involuntarily leapt at her words. It was always what she said so casually that made his head spin with delight, to taunt him of things to fancy in the long, lonely hours of work trudging by with only her to think of.

The way she said things, one might think she was almost speaking of him. Curling his gloved fist tighter around the hilt of his cane, the Dark One forced himself to be brutally honest; not willing to let any shred of hope break into his shriveled, black heart. No, that was nonsense; merely the fancy of a lonely beast. She would never see that in him; never talk so kindly about the monster who'd taken her captive.

"Well." Gold sighed and preformed a small departing bow, not showing any hint of what plagued his already troubled heart. "I don't see the harm so long as you don't try to take in this stray and give it a name. Have a good day with you and your…" His lips skewed in a sneer of revulsion "Mutt."

With that, Belle waited expectantly till she heard the door to his car slam shut and the engine rumble to life only to grown fainter as it sped down the narrow lane. She breathed a heavy sigh of regret with him gone that she always fell spring in her, but nodded to her tiny dog. She couldn't have him catching on, of course.

Belle hadn't actually known another dog…Bandit, she suddenly decided to name him as a nod to her master, came by every day, till she once spotted its lanky gray form through the small slits in the fence, sitting calmly on the other side. It was as though they talked to one another every day expressing their love through the wooded barrier that neither could delve under nor scale.

From then on, though the beauty was hesitant to tell her master, she opened the front door to let the two be together for a short while. Lady would prance away with the matted love and yet always returned in a few short hours. Normally, she was sopping wet and reeked of day old garbage or other repugnant things, but her large dark eyes would gleam delightedly with a knowing that kept Belle opening the door again and again every morning save when her master was present.

A gruff, expectant, sniff at the opposite side of the fence made Belle halt her thoughts on the strange, adopted dog taken into their home. Lady yipped excitedly and darted towards the front door, with her long ears in the wind, like some girl waiting for her date to a prom.

"Not so fast, girl." Belle scolded mockingly as she briskly trotted behind the excited animal.

The animal jittered in place and stamped its paws excitedly and impatience while waiting on its owner. Every so often she would leap into the air as though her energy could not merely be contained by sitting still.

Fiddling with the locks to the front door, the gentle beauty smiled down at the eagerly jumping pooch. "Don't come back smelling like you've been frolicking at the cannery this time." She reminded the dog as though it could understand.

In a way, she admitted inwardly to herself, watching the beasts oddly human eyes seem to acknowledge her, Lady could understand. Those eyes had always made her wonder….

With a quick twist of the knob the portal to the outside world opened, leaving Lady nothing more than a silky brown streak racing down the street with the gray, gangly dog following and jumping about her happily. They were off on their own little adventures happily exploring Storybrooke through the eyes of animals.

"I didn't know Mr. Gold was a pet person." A coolly vile voice pierced the air.

Fear crawled up Belle's spine, making the hairs on the back of her neck dance on end. Shooting her head up she saw, the evil queen standing primly in front of her. The Madame Mayor was dress nattily in some navy blue pants suit, ironed crisply without once defect to her rather intimidating form.

Belle tried to shake the terror digging its icy talons cruelly into her chest, but failed to shake them free. She managed a hard fought smile that crumpled almost immediately in nervousness. "Regina, Mr. Gold's not here. You can find him at his shop; you just missed him a few minutes ago."

"Actually, I know what time his shop opens." A large, glossy grin slithered upon her morbidly pale face. "I am here to see you." She revealed in cutting politeness.

To Belle the mayor seemed more comfortable being their in a foreign house, than herself who had lived there for months.

Before the beauty could inquire or protest or even slam the door in her face out of sheer anxiousness, the harpy slid past her into the dim home of the Dark One. Clutching her dark leather purse in both hands she sighed heavily and waltzed into the kitchen as though she owned it, leaving Belle to trail behind uncertainly.

"I was surprised to see you at the fundraiser last week." She lied coyly as she made herself comfortable in a seat by the cleared table. "One would assume that _man_, and I do use the word lightly, would ever let you leave this dreadful place."

Her delicate hand flourished towards the dim hallway and the somber colors plastered upon the room rife with old trinkets tucked into every corner like some Egyptian tomb filed with possessions for the after world.

Belle bristled towards the words spat for her master, but held her composure daintily. "Rumpelstiltskin is very kind. There is more to him than meets the eye." Unlike you, she wished to spit, but held it back willfully. Rumpel might not take kindly to her snapping back retorts to the most powerful woman in town. "Now what did you come for?" She demanded.

"My offer of course." Regina chuckled and leaned back. "I can free you from this drudgery, Annabelle. All you have to do is walk through that door with me and he can't touch you. You can have a new, free life; one to do as you mostly see fit and be happy."

"Working for you." The beauty arched a brow skeptically, her tone laced with incredulity and disgust.

The mayor heaved her tiny shoulders in a nonchalant shrug and pursed her lips shrewdly. "I'm not perfect, Miss French." She acknowledged in a scoff as though it were obvious. "We all have our dirty, little secrets and I am not the most trustworthy woman in town. I would be a fool to tell you otherwise. The question open to you is which is the lesser of two evils."

"Rumpelstiltskin." Belle replied promptly, her trust in her master unwavering. To much time had been spent erecting the shaky bridge of trust between them that was growing less perilous by the day. Nothing, especially not Regina Mills would make her dash it away so easily.

A cunning smile curled upon Regina's poisoned, ruby lips maliciously; a smile that caused the beauty's belly to shrivel. "Are you so afraid of him? So fearful you are blinded by some fervor you have made yourself believe you have for him?"

"My master has done nothing to make me unwarranted of his trust or fearful of him." Belle growled, her emotions swirling from fear of the witch before her to bright flares of anger. She did not fear her master any longer. At first there had been wariness, terror, but none of that existed now.

Regina sighed and folded her hands delicately in her lap. "Not even taking you to his bed."

The words rocked the beauty as though icy water had been doused upon her erupting flames of wrath; leaving only sizzling and smoke in its pathetic wake. Anger departed like smoke on the breeze, leaving nothing but frigid dread and confusion. "W-what…?" She shook her head determinedly. "He has never. How dare you have the indecency to make such claims? "

How dare she speak something so inappropriate of him, Belle seethed hotly? Her master was kind and a gentleman, not some promiscuous cur needing to force a woman to his bed!

"Odd." The Madame Mayor feigned surprise as she placed a hand to her chest in mock shock. "He insinuated that very thing that day I asked him to attend the gathering and he said no."

Belle's hands curled into tight fists by her sides. Rage burst into her heart, even fiercer than before and flowed through her blood like pure fire. How she wished to slam her knuckles into the witches veiled exterior and break the painted grin from her face, to beat away until only the malevolent harpy was in place of Regina's current form.

"You're lying." She claimed at length, her voice quivering with rage and fear.

"I have no reason to." Regina retorted nonplused. Rising from her chair gracefully, she slung her bag over her shoulder and began to head for the door. She stopped right in front of a furious Belle, her smile never dampening. "Ask him if you think my words false. Surely if he trusts you as much you trust him then he'll give you the truth. If I'm wrong you two will have a good laugh over this whole thing."

With that, she slowly sauntered out of the room and out of the forlorn house of the Mr. Gold, leaving a stunned, not quite certain Belle in a sea of frothy emotions she was slowly beginning to drown in.

She knew the queen wasn't lying. She had no justification to explain it, but she knew the words were truth.

The front door slamming shut was the only indication Regina had departed, leaving a suddenly frightened tumultuous Belle in her wake. Why did such words bother her so; surely it had to be some trick.

Numbly, she padded towards the door as though some one controlled her legs and feet. Her mind was a raging tempest, pulling her in very direction and yet none as she carefully locked the door. She felt as though she were falling and falling with no way to grab on to anything.

Why had he said those words? For what purpose? What did it mean? What did it mean for her?

Questions raged through the beauty bright mind like a gale, battered the fortitude of her thoughts and spirit. Slowly, she leaned her back and head against the oaken door, her knees suddenly weaker that a new born babes, only to slide down to the floor and break down into a flood of emotionally charged tears.

~8~8~

"You're quiet tonight." Rumpelstiltskin commented through a mouthful of pork chop. His eyes briefly flickered to his Belle who sat opposite of him.

Her fork scraped insipidly at the barely touched food of mashed potatoes and peas and pork as she stared down forlornly at her plate. Melancholy crackled off her like lightening. Her shoulders slumped dejectedly as she sat silent as a tomb.

Silence was unlike her, the fiend knew, alarm rising in his gut. Something had occurred today to rattle her so.

The beauty tilted her head up and blinked owlishly like breaking free of a trance. "I'm sorry, what?"

He chuckled and stabbed at another portion of pork. "You're quiet and thoughtful." He repeated and forced a smile. "Usually you can't wait till I get home to bombard me with questions and stories of your day."

"Oh…. Forgive me if you think I talk too much." She took a spoonful of peas mechanically, as though simply for show.

Gold frowned, displeased by the unwarranted apology. "I didn't say that. I enjoy listening to you." He admitted, hoping to enact a response than the somber air that seemed to entrap her.

A little spark of light flickered in her cobalt depths, but quickly submerged under the plaintive aura about her. Not even that admission was enough to uplift her from the morass of disparity.

For a time they resumed eating it silence; the only sound the scrape of cutlery on plates and the low thump of glasses being set back on the table.

Warning rose in the Dark One like a surging tide. Quiet, forlorn contemplation was completely unlike the bright, talking, merry Belle he loved to walk in to every evening. Now she was disparaged and thoughtfully dour as though something saddened and befuddled her.

Why wasn't she happy, he pondered, the food in his mouth tasting akin to funeral ashes. What could he do to make her happy? He was no good at trying to make others feel better, not even his Belle, but for her he was willing to try.

"What's wrong?" He inquired finally, putting his fork down, unable to bear the grave silence. He wanted noise and laughter and her quaint little stories he had to hide a smile with.

Lady, sitting on the wood floor beside her, perched her head up as if inquiring the same thing.

The beauty shook her head and managed a small, insincere smile. "Nothing. I was just…" How could she tell him what was on her mind? Did she dare ask him if what Regina claimed was truth? There was certainly no easy way to ask 'did you tell Regina you were bedding me', in a way that didn't make things sink into a more awkward situation or perhaps crush their trust in one fail swoop.

Truth be told, she didn't really want to know, for knowing would have to bring reasoning behind why he would spew such a blatant lie. Reasoning, she did not think she was prepared to handle.

"Just what?" He queried, staring at her curiously without a hint of anger. On the contrary, he looked just about ready to grant her anything she requested; any to have his old Belle back and happy, for he could truly not bear seeing her miserable.

Having Belle unhappy was akin to a knife plunged into his chest and slowly turned. He hated her displeasure, seeing her saddened. Anything he could do to relieve that pain he would, and be glad of the price all to make her laugh and smile once more.

"I just…" She paused and inhaled deeply to quell her nerves. "I just want the truth."

His eyes narrowed cautiously, but he beckoned warily for her to continue. What exactly did she know?

She fumbled with her fork against the edge of the plate and looked away from him. "Did…did you…did you turn Lady and the other gray dog into animals?"

Coward, she spat hatefully to herself. No, she was not ready to ask him the true question yet, if ever.

"That's all?" Gold asked, relief flitting his tone. Appetite once again restored, he picked up his fork and dug in heartily. "I was wondering if you noticed, and to answer your question, no, I did not turn them into animals, but someone did."

Belle looked down at the dog under the table with a new interest. To think, the tiny animal was once probably a gorgeous lady with a winsome suitor who was now a hound. Though the thought was indeed an intriguing one, it was not the first consideration on Belle's mind. No, her thoughts were on more heartfelt problems.

"Will you always tell me the truth, Rum?" She asked abruptly, not quite certain herself where the question originated.

The Dark One chewed furtively, troubled by the sudden inquiry. He hated lying to her, and hated more so on important things she had a right to know. But, he was not ready to bare his heart, his all to her. "I can't promise always." He admitted regretfully after swallowing and took a long gulp of tea.

Belle face fell, but it was a disappointment of understanding. They were not to that point yet, not where the truth was granted full leave from both their hearts; her perhaps more than his.

"I'll…I'll try." He finished somewhat unsteadily, but there was a deep, un-treaded honesty there. Never had he uttered such a promise before to anyone. Lying was deeply seeded in his nature to get what he wanted; to achieve his ends, but here he found himself, promising to make a willful try of being honest.

To someone like Mr. Gold, the Dark One, such was no mean feat by any stretch of the imagination. Had he said it merely to placate and coax back the bright Belle he craved, or was there something more, something he was happy he swore to?

For the first time that entire evening, Belle grinned widely. The press of forlornness and disturbing thoughts fell away like a shredded blanket stifling her. He was making an effort, she noted heartily like a ray of hope breaking through a fog on insecurity. Effort that showed no matter what Regina uttered from her lips, she could trust him.

And perhaps, just perhaps, that was suffeicnt enough to see them through anything even the knowledge of Regina's words.

For now...


	13. Thanksgiving

_A/N: I hope you lads and lassies had a wonderful Thanksgiving! Thanks for reading and reviewing! :3_

**~8~8~**

Gold and russets leaves twirled in lazy little vortexes along the barren streets and deserted sidewalks in the bright, yet chilly afternoon. Summer, as always, receded away like a slow tide giving rise to fall in all its cold and colorful grandeur.

Brilliant displays of mulled ochre's and bright scarlet dotted every tree like vibrant crests raised to welcome the new, lording season. The glory in fall with its crisp air and colorful displays of leaves and bright blue sky like a solid sapphire made the days bucolically picturesque in the quiet shire of Storybrooke.

How quickly time could pass, Mr. Gold mused deeply whilst he stared ponderously out the large display window of his dusty shop etched with his name in gold and burgundy. His thin, wiry fingers drummed rhythmically against the cleaned counter to their own secretive beat as he watched a few citizens of the accursed town passing back and forth hurriedly like they were goaded by the frigid air to seek shelter from the gnashing winds.

All were swaddled tight in thick coats of wool and rich cashmere, snug caps and ear muffs, and long colorful scarves wrapped over their noses and mouths to fend from the cold.

Maine, the place the curse had spirited them to, while utterly breathtaking, was a rather cold realm in the later months. The winds from the sea once warm and gentle and rich with the scents of salt now whipped unforgiving with is icy lash, sparing no one who did not bundle up in their armor of warmth.

Freezing and unforgiving, the Dark One's lips wrenched into a sneer merely thinking of the slashing, wailing wind; he absolutely hated the cold. Autumn reminded him of his poverty as a lowly, crippled spinner. Many a night before he was transformed into the Dark One he would spend the frigid nights upon a bare dirt floor shivering violently under thin blankets with wind howling through his pathetic hovel.

Nestled comfortably in his warm shop, the fiend did not brood too heavily on the cold that bit at his bones, but more of the season itself. Holidays in slews of cultures celebrated time in the fall for a host of reasons, and in their new land it was no different.

As if on queue, Snow White, or rather Mary Margaret, he reminded himself quickly, briskly tramped by. Her arms were heavily laden with some ridiculous cut-out and drawn turkeys probably made by the grubby hands of the children she taught, atop an unadorned brown box most likely filled with canned goods for the shelter where she volunteered when not at the hospital.

She could barely see past the cumbersome brown box, but went along her way merrily, her breath billowing out in opaque vapors as she stuck to her noble task.

For a moment the kindly teacher rested with her load on the side walk to pop the kinks out her back and stretch. She turned her head to the window of his shop and offered a wary, half hearted smile towards the tight lipped Gold before deciding to find a better spot to rest.

Even in a strange new world with no memory of her past life, she was the same fiery woman he'd met on that dock years ago; willing to help others even at her own detriment. The curse could change names and thoughts, but it could not alter the soul beneath.

Rumpelstiltskin huffed slightly in amusement at the thought as he turned back to his tasks. Diligently, he prepared to close the shop early seeing the day had already been a slow one with no sign of anyone coming in to make last minute deals.

Besides, he smiled widely and tapped open his register; unable to help himself from grinning ear to ear, the sooner he left the sooner he could spend time with his Belle.

Over the long days in the summer season, the fiend had grown to enjoy spending precious time with her. Sometimes she would be successful in dragging him out of his darkened study and into to her bright garden. Some days, if he was being courageous he would limp into the living room and pretend to read all the while watching her lost in her own literature and wishing he could be closer.

He loved spending time with the beauty; loved it more than breathing, more than tampering with other peoples lives, loved it more than…

No! He stopped the rambling thoughts dead in their tracks with a sharp breath. Looking down somberly at the antique cash register that partially reflected his rough melancholic features he stared at himself despicably in the bronze gilt. Why did his thoughts lead back to her every day? Why did he cherish her company like the rarest of jewels?

There was no denying he was fond of the beauty, but did he dare even think more?

Abruptly, the brass bell over his shop jangled raucously, making the Dark One halt the worrying thoughts that never ceased to plague him.

"Mr. Gold." A stammering, rasping voice rang through the air, making the fiend frown irksomely.

Tending to his register, he didn't look up to address the man heavily plodding in his direction. His tone was a careless triteness as he spoke through pulled thin lips. "Moe French, I was just about to close shop; make it quick." He replied dryly as he did a double count of the crumpled bills.

The former king gasped out of breath as he stood on the opposite side of the counter. His thick, flabby hands curled against the glass as he leaned forward to face the man who he had borrowed so much from and paid the price.

"I just wanted to know if Anna was getting the holidays off." He revealed and licked his dried, chapped lips nervously, his gargantuan jowls wobbling. "I know it'd mean a lot to us both if she-"

"Miss French's contract dictates she works holidays." Gold interrupted callously, his face a tactful, careless neutral with a hint of repulsiveness towards the desperate man. His dexterous fingers flipped through the wrinkled bills one by one; still not looking up to the flower salesmen in hopes he would give up and plod out.

Moe's voice turned to hoarse desperate much like what his corpulent form radiated. Cold sweat beaded his wrinkled brow, aged with worry from their old and new world. Pride ran deep in his bloodline, but he was not above begging when it came to his child. "Have a heart will you. It's Thanksgiving, a time she should be with family and friends. She works seven days a week nearly all year round. Please, can't you give her one day off?"

"No." He slammed the slot to the register shut viciously causing the ill father jump, startled. "The contract is final and if you or anyone tries to bypass it, I will come for the full amount of what you owe me which you do not have driving you and your daughter to utter destitution and penury."

Moe stood their agape at the cold hearted businessman not even willing to allow his daughter one day of rest to enjoy life and pretend she didn't work for a monster. Hatred, all consuming spilled into Moe French, making him nearly reach over the counter and wrap his thick fingers around the pawnbroker's scrawny neck and shake him in fury.

His bleary eyes narrowed into twin icy orbs towards the pawn broker. "You're a cruel man, Gold." He loathed in a snarl.

"I never said I wasn't." Ray smirked nastily and easily plucked up his hawk beaked cane hanging from a nearby peg.

"You're cruel to Anna most of all." He continued as though Gold had said nothing. His eyes brimmed with a conflagration of rage whilst he spoke through a clenched jaw. "Everyone else in Storybrooke get a respite from you, but not her. She has to put up with you day in and day out without a word of compliant. She must be half mad by now, my kind little Anna, forced to labor for scum like you."

All humor dried from the Dark One's voice, but she kept the same infuriating smirk slapped upon his face. Words were nothing to him, they fazed him as much as water did steel. "And whose fault would that be, Mr. French?"

Moe flinched at though the fiend had struck him across the face with his cane. Perhaps the blow would have hurt less than the hard stab of the Dark Ones words. Blood drained rapidly from his bloated face like all the life was siphoned from him. Without another word, the flower salesmen left quietly out of the shop, his shoulder and head drooping dejectedly, but rage still glowering in his soul.

Once the corpulent, haphazard form of Moe French was fully out of sight, Rumpelstiltskin let his guards and masks drop away like the leaves upon the trees. Moe French, for all his narcissistic ineptitude had a point. Belle did not deserve to spend special time with her slaver. She deserved to be happy with family and friends surrounding a table heaped with food and giving thanks for what they had.

What could she be thankful for with him; that he never raised a hand to beat her? No, he somberly grabbed his thick, black overcoat, his mind and heart torn for compassion and selfishness.

If the beauty hadn't been so adamant and excited to share her first true Thanksgiving, Rumpel wouldn't even have been celebrating at all aside from a day off from the shop.

Belle deserved to be with her family and those she loved, but part of him, though he hated with all his being to admit it, wanted to spend be with her. Even though they were together by unsavory means, he was a part of her life. Was it so wrong to want to spend, and secretly look forward to sharing Thanksgiving with her?

~8~8~

The thought of Belle and the holidays plagued him like a sinister shadow creeping over his shoulder on his drive home. No matter what he attempted to think about, her happiness and would she rather stay with him or go see her papa and friends, latched on fervently to his mind and refused to relent from the forefront of his mind.

Even when he slowly limped up the walk and turned the key, the thought spread ignobly like some malignant disease. He knew what he was going to do, in all truthfulness, and that's what gave him pause the most, for doing so was another ostentatious show of weakness.

A sigh of defeat dripped from his lips as he cursed his fool heart and walked inside to be met with a barrage of cheer.

"You're home early!" Belle greeted in her normal chipper fashion making a small smile tug at his lips though his heart was heavy as lead.

She was dressed in a comfy, slightly large gray sweater to combat the cold and an old pair of jeans. Her thick russet man was pulled behind her letting nothing of her loveliness be covered.

"People are getting ready for this 'Thanksgiving'." He revealed with a shrug as though she had questioned him. Slipping off his jacket he sighed and threw it on a chair. "Not much business I'm afraid."

The beauty automatically scooped up his jacket, much to accustomed to his slothful, bachelor ways to think anything of it and began to hang it up in the closet. "Speaking of Thanksgiving, I've been reading about it all day. I think a whole turkey is a bit too over my head for right now. How about turkey sandwiches and I can try my hand at a pie?"

"Sounds wonderful." He replied allowing a little tenderness to slip into his voice before the waver of regret cracked in his timbre. A frown dipped upon his features as he swallowed sadness and selfishness to keep her all his own. It was now or never to see would his hard heart crumple though he fought to retain his fastidiously built walls. "Unfortunately, I have decided on recourse."

"Oh?" Belle inquired in curiosity, though not disappointment.

Shrugging once more, he ran a gnarled hand through his straggly chestnut hair and motioned to the door. "From now on you may spend Thanksgiving with your Papa, and you will spend Christmas with me."

He was not so utterly selfless, he noted in the back of his mind. Still, despite guilt hounding him fervently, he desired a little time with her; a little magic of the season spent with the beauty.

Besides, he could give her the best Christmas, with everything she would crave to let her imagination soar to decorate and deck the halls and what not. Family however, he felt shame surge within his form, family was not something he could give her on a day like Thanksgiving. Was he even worthy to dare dub himself her friend?

Belle rocked back, greatly surprised. She was always taken aback by his kindness, for she never saw it coming until it was right in her face. He was a strange man of strange reasoning and whims; who knew why he did anything especially show kindness to her.

"Y-you're letting me spend time with my Papa?" She whispered, stunned.

He nodded briskly hoping a small smile would hide the pain. "You get till seven O'clock, no later." Came the response.

A threat wished to spurt from his lips on the consequences if she did not return, but he bit it back willfully. They had come far too far to have threats already stated hovering about their trust like some black cloud to mar the rays of happiness.

No, they were beyond threats; beyond that sort of mistrust.

Quite suddenly, Belle wrapped her arms around the Dark One tightly. His palpitating heart froze its eternal beat with her so near with her arm around him and her head upon his chest.

Air wished to flow through his form, yet his lungs refused to work of their own accord.

She was close, so close he could smell her sweet perfume and feel wayward tendrils of her chestnut hair upon his face, now abjectly oversensitive to the slightest touch.

She was grateful, she was happy, he was nearly complete.

"I won't forget this." Belle promised in a solemn murmur.

Neither would he, Gold thought dictating the moment to his ancient mind in every detail, neither would he.

~8~8~

Belle stared at the hastily scribbled address upon the scrap of paper clutched tightly in her grip. Chilled wind tousled her coppery ringlets playfully as she stood in the bitter cold out in a trailer park on the outskirts of Storybrooke town proper.

The rusted metal sign erected perilously over the front of the park read 'Sherwood Trailer Park' in brought green letters that were now dulled and peeling away with the wind and rain.

Though the park was named for the land, the acreage looked nothing like the fabled forest of their realms of old, famed for its profuseness of outlaws and brigands.

The park was little more than a dusty, barren plot stuffed with rectangular homes, netted with Christmas lights and plastic cornucopias. Those that remained unadorned and dark sat silent like large gravestones on the gray Thanksgiving Day.

Checking the address once more to the half chipped away numbers by a door, the beauty hoped it was the correct address her papa had related over the phone. He had moved so much since the business had begin to sink.

Icy wind or perhaps anxiousness slithered down her spine, making her wrap her coat tighter of her form. Her knuckles rapped warily upon the sagging screen door only to have it groan open instantly.

"Anna!" Her fathers paled and swallowed face lit in happiness. "I'm glad you're here."

By some miracle she had called the day before Thanksgiving with the news she'd be coming over. Perhaps it was Guy's doing to free up the day for her, but whatever allowed her to be with him on Thanksgiving he was supremely grateful.

Of course, he didn't have much to spend Thanksgiving with her properly, but just with her being there, and with a few old family friends stopping by and her old flame Stone dropping in he wished their presence might give her the support she would need and the courage to finally never return to that beast.

The beauty smiled as she stepped into the rather neat looking home and hugged her papa tightly. "I'm glad to see you to, Papa. It feels like forever." Their last encounter was months ago, and though it wasn't the best of reunions it was one she cherished dearly.

"It does." He agreed and wrapped her arms around her and squeezed tight.

Far too long, Moe thought angrily. Rage spurted hotly inside him with the thought of Mr. Gold keeping her away for so long. The lone miser cared nothing for family, only misery and making others miserable. A misery he would be dealt back a thousand fold soon.

Hiding the dreadful thought away with a false, cheery laugh, he ushered his daughter into his modest home. His trailer was a simple thing with a few books on planting tucked away, bills he couldn't pay crammed into an old, broken drawer and aged patched carpeting to accent the dank lighting of lamps bereft of their shades.

It wasn't much, but with Anna there his pathetic trailer felt like home.

The portly flower salesmen proffered his hand to the faded blue lumpy couch or a chair in the small kitchen. "Just make yourself comfortable anywhere, the foods almost done."

"I'll help." She began to offer as she peeled off her heavy coat, but her father swatted a hand her way.

"You work too hard as it is, for once; let some one wait on you." He replied and shuffled into the kitchen.

Belle grinned lovingly at her father, wanting nothing more than to laugh and talk about old times. Honoring his wish, she sat down and stared at a small, fuzzy television screen with some sports game playing.

Admittedly, it did feel good to have some downtime and be with her father, though a small part of her wished; maybe perhaps she could have had the courage to invite Rumpelstiltskin along. Oh, but that would have been a disaster; she didn't need false memories in place to know they hated one another like fire hated water.

Still, it was a pleasant thought to think she could have spent time with them both.

"I hope you still enjoy pecan pie." Her father's voice rang from the kitchen merrily amidst a clatter of utensils and pots. "Guy is brining one."

The beauty felt her heart plummet like a wounded sparrow at the words. A small curse whispered from her lips as she curled a hand tightly into a fist of annoyance. Gaston, she should have seen his presence on being there a mile away and yet so happy to be spending time with her father had no even give thought to the possibility.

With a quiet sigh, she forced herself to sound uncaring and slightly curious to not upset her ailing father. "You didn't tell me Guy was stopping by."

"I called him up right after you told me you'd be coming." Moe revealed in a grunt of exertion, more than likely pulling the small turkey out the oven. His voice quieted from his jovial tone to a somber, fatherly timbre. "He still loves you, you know, Anna."

Belle fought the urge to frown and argue why she could never, not possibly love Guy Stone, but she did not wish to ruin the special day by pride and her distaste for the dim deputy. So like her father to try something like that, the beauty knew dourly. He always wanted what was best for her, and unfortunately they had two different ideas on what was best. Belle was her own woman, who decided her own fate; not her dear Papa.

Smiling insincerely, the beauty stifled down disapproval of her father's underhanded means to try and get her and Guy Stone back together, to enjoy the day.

However she would have been lying if she claimed, she did not have the sudden urge to go back home and spend the holiday with Rumpelstiltskin.

~8~8~

The hands upon her watch hit exactly seven as Belle gratefully pranced down the lonely sidewalk to the Dark One's dusky pink manse. While she was certain her father and the few close friends they had had in the old world enjoyed the Thanksgiving, her happiness in the whole affair had been immensely lacking.

From the very beginning Guy stuck to her like a tick, only confirming her suspicions. He was still the same, brutish, loud, moron who preened over his trophy collection and kills on the battle field. In this world he boasted of his record of arrests and how he had risen to the rank of deputy and trying to crack the string of robberies taking place in their town. His large, battle calloused hand would always be on her arm or shoulder pawing at her like a hound did a scrap of meat. He treated her just like another trophy he wished to put upon his mantle.

As the day had passed in tortuously slow agony, all she had wished to do was be with Rumpelstiltskin. Turkey sandwiches and pie sounded like the most scrumptious of feast compared to the shallow 'friends' of her father and Gaston.

How much she would have given simply to be curled up on the couch with Lady upon her lap and her master nearby quietly enjoying the holiday. A wide, eager grin crept to her features as she though of finally being back home with her master and Lady. Those two seemed more welcome company than any others in all of Storybrooke.

Happy, the beauty sprang up the walk with vigor, relishing the thought of being where she belonged.

Immediately, though she did not know why, an inner instinct told her something was wrong. Her smile faltered and fell from her face like it had never been. Pausing wearily away from the door, she wondered what the eerie ominous feel that crawled over her like spiders.

As she neared the oaken door, she could hear the dampened yelps of Lady's frantic barking. Lady never barked even when she was excited to see her gray companion. Bandit, outside, Belle knew, riling up more anxiousness in her mind.

Fear began to race through her veins at a galloping pace. Something was wrong and terribly so. Racing the rest of the way to the door, the beauty pounded her fist upon the portal only to have it swing open brokenly like a skeletons jaw perilously hanging upon one hinge.

By the porch light she could see the knob had been tampered with and bits of wood lay cracked and in countless splinters. Streaks of some dried liquid trailed outside, shinning with a dull burgundy hue that liberally stained the threshold.

"Rum?" Belle tried to keep her voice calm though terror cracked her timbre.

Rushing through in one brave motion she gasped at the sight before her waiting in the hall by the door. The walls were splattered with fresh, gleaming blood that shimmered in glossy tint in the overturned lamp light. The entire house had been flipped upside down with papers and objects and utensils lying scattered in every direction like a whirlwind had raged through the manse.

A window lay shattered with only knife sharp pieces hanging in the pane like jagged teeth with blood spotting them as well.

A struggle had taken place, she knew, a gory struggle.

Taking a few wary steps inside, her ears followed Lady's desperate, almost hoarse yips all terror and alarm.

"Rum!" Belle shrieked his name, desperately wanting a reply. Anything, even a moan or cry would have been a glorious welcome to combat the heart pounding terror of dreadful silence.

A strangled cry burst from her trembling lips as she turned the corner and horrifyingly stumbled upon Rumpelstiltskin lying in a bloody heap on the hall floor.

His ash wood cane lay speckled in gore and glinted in the overturned light few inches from his outstretched hand. Glossy crimson fluid pooled under his wiry form in a deep messy puddle. His clothes were sopped with putridly dark blood and shredded in some places as though a knife had ripped through the fibers.

In the dim mansion, unknown to all of Storybrooke, the nefarious Dark One lay greviously wounded with Lady barking frantically at his body.


	14. Recovery

All consuming darkness ensorcelled Rumpelstiltskin like a near tangible smog coalescing over his sharp mind. The blackness suffocated and shrouded him with its ghastly essence making the spanning mist feel thick enough to paw away, and yet he could not banish it so easily as a flick of the hand.

Pain throbbed numbly through his lanky form, though not as bad as he thought it should have hurt. The left side of his torso felt aflame as though it had been seared with branding irons. Agony, at least, let him know he was alive and could feel. He wished to sit up and open his eyes, but found he had not the strength dwelling in his body. Power and consciousness coyly eluded him like a teasing lover, making the Dark One dip in and out of sleep and reality for heavens knew how long.

With each breath he felt as weak as the worthless spinner he had been ages ago. At times when he was mildly aware of himself in the dense fog fear crept upon his fragile, confused mind at a sudden thought, was he still the pathetic spinner he had been a lifetime before? Had everything he thought and done and manipulated been naught but a dream and he would wake up with a son who had to fight a war that was not his own and he could do nothing to stop it?

No, he forced what little reasoning to bloom to life in his fogged mind to assure him nothing of the sort. He was Mr. Gold and the Dark One, not Spindleshanks; never again would he be that craven bug made to lick the boots of arrogant knights.

Burning the terror away, he fought to work in to full wakefulness and figure out what had happened. Where was he? How had he gotten there? Part of him could vaguely recall some dastardly memory tugging at the barest fringes of his mind, but he forced it away to conserve his energy.

Focusing on his senses, the Dark One attempted to figure out where he was and put his thoughts in order accordingly.

The blankets and fibers above and below him felt like stiff cotton, and somewhere there was a distinct rhythmic beeping sound. The atmosphere smelled like sterile alcohol and recycled air wafting warmly about him, yet did nothing to sooth the fever of his thoughts.

Hospital, the fiend knew immediately. Everything was indicative of the Storybrooke county hospital. He knew it rather well, though when he was there it was often the cause of him putting someone else in the medical facility and not the other way around.

Why was he at a hospital, he contemplated vaguely, not sure what had occurred to make him end up in such a place and feeling like his old, peasant self once more with the weakness encasing his form. Who would have dared done such to him?

With a firm will the monster gathered his strength and made a stalwart effort to open his eyes and sit up for what felt like the first time in years. Light from harsh brilliant bulbs scorched his vision making Gold blink rapidly to dispel their effect. Hissing angrily from the sear of the lamps, Rumpelstiltskin rubbed his eyes before the world came into focus.

Indeed he was in a neat hospital room painted stucco blue and white in the hospital colors. The television in the corner wall was dark and the thick beige curtains were shut making the room dim. Beside him an I.V dripped a steady amount of clear fluid into his arm and the heart monitor kept its continuous beep of his heart rate with the tiny pulse pricking every few seconds upon the screen.

Though his form was lanky and wiry, there was strength and sinew in him despite the pummeling his body groaned in testament to. Determination overrode his helpless hurt as the Dark One steeled himself to sit up.

Immediately, he regretted the motion as pain burst in his left side as though someone was slashing at his flesh with claws and daggers. A cry of agony shrieked through his thinly drawn lips as he collapsed back upon the bed in a heap of pain and torment.

Bloody stars and blue spots danced in his vision, but also served to send his memory surging back like a vengeful tide. His breath heaved heavily from his burning, aching lungs as he curled a fist tightly to stifle the pain. Whoever had broken into his home and caused him such wounds would pay; dearly so.

"Rumpelstiltskin." An all too familiar voice rang through the reused air in sleepy, muffled wonderment.

Swiveling his head to the drawn drapes, hiding the window, the fiend was more than a little surprised to see his Belle wiping sleep from her eyes and began to shift from a large, stiff-backed chair.

Her slender body lay nestled uncomfortably in a seat tucked into the side of the room as though she hadn't desired to get into anyone's way. What clothes she had on were bedraggled and crumpled telling the tale of long nights and longer days. Dark, puffy bag sat under her eyes, and her thick, russet mane was slightly disheveled and uncombed.

Relief shimmered in her cobalt depths as the bleary smears of sleep banished from her mind. Jumping up, she raced to his lesser aching side and looked him over critically with brimming happiness.

"How are you feeling?" She inquired gently. Hers was a lovely, loyal gentleness that made him want to smile at her and assuage the fear dancing behind her eyes.

Anger towards his deplorable state battled with relief and joy in his heart to see she was alive and well and unharmed by the men who had cornered him. Unfortunately, anger won the day.

The Dark One shifted very faintly, bringing on another wave of discomfort as he grimaced in reply. "Like I got stabbed in the side." He remarked sardonically. Even now he could feel the area throbbing in dulled torment where steel had pierced his flesh.

"Oh." She stated quietly, taking aback by his terse, rude reply.

Normally, he would have addressed her gentler, done something to bring a smile to her face or reassure her, but vengeance burned like lava through his veins. Nothing was more important than getting to the idiots who had dared murder him post haste.

Licking his dried lips thirstily he motioned to the door. "Be useful and go get the doctor." The fiend growled lowly. His fury brought the worst of the old beast out in him not even sparing his Belle from its snarling and snapping.

Belle nodded in reply and padded away to the door. Briefly, she swiveled her head to look back at him, both grief and happiness torn down the middle of her flagging emotions and stamina.

The heavy thud of the door was the only indication to the Dark One his Belle had departed in search of the doctor leaving him alone with only his spinning thoughts and rising ire. Closing his eyes once again, he swallowed hard to gather himself and put the last thoughts of what had occurred in his mind.

Focusing on the steady plop of morphine draining into the line in his arm, his ears perked up to the light footsteps of Belle and the good doctor Whale. The figure of Whale blotted out the light as he hovered over the weakly state of Mr. Gold. His normally definitive face was a mixture of interest and sagely technique as he inspected the wiry figure of the Dark One with his expertise.

He scribbled on a note pad, his gaze flickering from paper to the scraggly form of the injured Dark One. "You're recovering well, Mr. Gold. Only two weeks in the hospital, one in intensive care and you're trying to sit up."

"Yeah, well, I'm not one to stay in one place for to long." Ray grunted in his normal surly demeanor. He stifled a wince of pain, for his body hurt simply to talk and breathe all at once. "So what's the extent of the damage?" Gold eyed the physician seriously.

The doctor put away his notepad and grinned down tightly. "Excessive loss of blood, a cracked rib where a blade glanced off, another broken rib, a slew of nasty contusions, and you're fine."

Gold huffed nonplused in reply but bit back a cry of pain at the effort. Nothing he could do didn't hurt. "I assume the sheriff is on standby to the investigation?"

"On his way in now." Dr. Whale affirmed and pocketed his pen.

Rumpelstiltskin nodded slightly. "Good. I'd like to speak to him alone when he comes."

"Sounds like a plan." Whale turned his head to Belle and smiled to the worried beauty while his eyes soaked in her gorgeous form. "While they're talking, I get the chance to buy you a cup of coffee." He announced dashingly. His tone invariably betrayed his eagerness, but he did nothing to conceal such an uncomfortable fact. He had missed his chance at the ball weeks and weeks ago, now there was no means of her to escape his unctuos flirting.

At that, the fiend wished to snap at the practitioner to keep his womanizing hands away from his Belle, when the door creaked open, making him abandon the threat about to spew from his lips.

"Miss French, Doctor Whale." Graham dipped his hat to them both as he slid inside. His fingers drummed against the handle of his firearm lazily, telling of strung nerves over the entire case and even being in the room.

Wordlessly, servant and doctor wandered outside, with Belle politely protesting coffee, leaving only the sheriff and the pawn broker in the room to discuss the event weeks ago.

Gritting his teeth, Rumpelstiltskin forced himself up in one lunge. Tenaciously, the businessman held back a cry of sheer torment flaring through his form. The stitches in his side strained, but he paid them no mind as he stared steely eyed at the worn sheriff. "I assume you've managed to come up with something while I've been incapacitated."

"We've managed to catch one of the men who broke into your home. We found him trying to sell a few pieces of antiques, Miss French identified as yours." The sheriff replied. "His name is John Little; a hulk of a man. He won't give us the name or location of the rest of his accomplices, but we think they're the ones on the crime spree."

With a sigh, the sheriff made himself comfortable in a chair and crossed his arms. "It'd probably help if you can tell me anything of what you might remember."

Gold closed his dark brown eyes and attempted to focus on the few moments before his world had gone dark. "I was walking to my kitchen when I heard the front door being tampered with and Annabelle's dog started to growl. Fearing intruders, I made my way over to where I always keep my pistol."

It wasn't the complete truth, he knew precociously, but far better than telling the sheriff, he had been wandering melancholically through his expansive manse wishing for the beauty to be with him and share turkey sandwiches. His was a lonely home, even more so surrounded by things that reminded him of her in every room.

"Before I could get to my gun the front door was kicked in and four men entered my home." He squinted and rubbed the side of his head, his brain swimming. "Everything goes a little fuzzy then." He lied convincingly. "I stared swinging my cane at them, they were yelling, I was yelling and the dog was barking. I managed to strike one across the face and I think break his nose and I got a few more blows in. Though it was four to one, before I knew it I was trapped and they all had drawn knives. I thought I was dead then the strangest thing happened. A large gray, dog burst through a window and comforted the four." Of that, Gold was completely truthful.

He did not know whence the dog came, only that when it arrived it was a beast of fangs and claws ripping into the thieves with a rabid ferocity. The beast had grabbed on to one of the men's arms and sunk its jagged fangs into the flesh, hanging like a limpet as it clawed and chewed and ran for another's jugular with its foaming, slavering jaws.

"One of the men, trying to escape the beast, lurched forward and that's when I was stabbed. Seeing all the blood and thinking I was probably dying they fled with the dog on their heels. The next thing I know I'm in the hospital."

"Strange tale." Graham remarked, not dubiously, but merely curious. Storybrooke was a town of strange things, not the least of them a dog who would simply appear to defend the most hated man in town.

The Dark One's eyes narrowed as he stared at the sheriff. "Strange or not, I want these men found."

"So does the entire town." The dark haired sheriff lied doggedly. It was actually quite the opposite, and the towns liking for the robbers had increased seven fold with the news of Mr. Gold being injured. When the surprising revelation hit the Mirror, Granny's actually put a round of whatever people were drinking on the house.

Homes had been filled with music and laughter and dancing. Had Gold died, Graham was sure an impromptu parade would have erupted upon the streets with all the essential tassels and jangles for such a momentous celebration.

Shaking the pleasant if not distasteful thought away he inclined his head slightly. "You should just be thankful you're alive. It's a miracle Miss French found you."

"Anna found me?" Gold's haggard features crinkled in weariness and confusion.

The drugs were making him drowsy once more, seeing his body into grateful numbed oblivion, though he desired to stay awake and inquire about Anna's hand in rescuing him. He assumed a neighbor would have called to investigate, hearing the entire disjointed ruckus, not the woman he held enthralled.

Graham nodded briskly and grunted slightly as he stood. "That's right, and I have to commend you, you picked a very loyal assistance. The woman works to keep your shop open, went around and collected rents due, and kept everything in order. The only time she wasn't here was when she went to feed her dog or tend to your normal work. She did it so well; one might never know you were gone."

With that, the sheriff dipped his cap in farewell and strode out, leaving a very surprised Mr. Gold behind. Graham would not give accolades to a women he barely knew, the fiend assured himself.

No wonder she looked so fatigued when he'd seen her. All she'd been doing was tending to his business and household loyally and he'd rewarded her with sharp terseness his first moment of cognitive wakefulness instead of thanking her.

Shame drew over him, making the fiend wish he had not been so callous to her or at least stifled his rage. His Belle could have fled, she could have taken everything, but she stayed and tended diligently to his normal duties he normally saw too without a word of complaint.

Sleep wished to wash over him, sending his agonized form into a world of grateful oblivion, but he found his mind unable to rest with thoughts of his Belle and how he'd treated her. Part of him wouldn't be surprised if she left out the doors of the hospital and never returned for his ungrateful, snarling behavior.

Would he have stopped her if she actually fled?

The door creaked open once more as he was in his somber, sleepy thoughts. Small footsteps crept near him stealthily; though he could make out in his sleepiness someone was perilously close.

Keeping his heavy lids closed, Rumpelstiltskin feigned sleep, his face eased and breathing carefully slow. Who ever was near need not know he was awake, and perhaps he could learn a bit of information whilst he cunningly feigned the sleep about to become all to real.

Perfume of summer lavender wafted through the air, telling him without a doubt it was his Belle; always loyal, always kind Belle.

A smile etched upon Belle's lovely features as she neared the side of his bed. Sleep from the drugs seemed to make him tranquil taking the worst of his agony away. She was just happy he was still alive.

Tenderly, the beauty knocked away a stray lock of his hair from his rough face. The steady beep of the monitor sped up slightly, but she paid no heed.

Though he could not see her, he could tell her face was wrenched in a saddened smear across her lovely features. On instinct he could sense her sadness, much like animals could sense foul weather.

"I'm glad you're alive, master." She murmured softly; almost perhaps lovingly. Another smile twitched upon her morose face but fell just looking at his pallid, weak state.

If only she had been with him, she thought melancholically, guilt welling within her in a deluge of relief and grief. If only she had not ventured away. If only she had stood by his side, then everything would have been alright.

In one moment, she pressed his cold, pale knuckles to her cheek somberly, before wiping her tear brimmed eyes and wearily plodded over back to the uncomfortable chair. She curled back up for sleep in the high back, uncomfortable chair, completely unaware the Dark One had heard and felt everything.

~8~8~

It wasn't a week, nor two before Dr. Whale passed his full inspection for the businessman to leave back to his home to heal in the dim apertures of his manse. Gold wasn't at the perfect pinnacle of heath, but his recovery was surprisingly swift and all his wounds were healing neatly, giving him the tenuous approval from the towns most celebrated physician.

Heavy bandages wrapped the Dark One's scrawny torso, and he limped along heavier than normal with his cane, but he was finally leaving which in his estimate was worth the agonizing price.

"It's good to have you back home." Belle smiled brightly at her master as she helped him inside the shady dwelling.

Though the fiend hated being helped in any form, there was no denying he couldn't walk well without some aid.

The home was clean once more with only a few objects dictating there had ever been a break in or murderous scuffle at all. Rare splotches of dark blood still remained upon the walls, impossible to scrub clean, and the door still possessed marks from the intrusion where a boot had kicked the portal in.

Gold grit his teeth more for enduring the humiliation of her aid than the pain as he limped tortuously slow to a spare bedroom. One of the guest rooms was conveniently built at the lower tier of the mansion where he'd have to stay until he could manage the stairs. Such a fact was another blow to his pride making him nearly snarl with rage.

He was the Dark One, former master of magic, weaver of curses and here he was taking aid from a servant girl, and having to make allowances to live in his own home! Forcing the rage down his gullet, Rumpelstiltskin tried to make himself calm.

"You've done well since I was…indisposed." He commended lowly in attempts to banish the galled humiliation.

Belle was glad the dim, lavish home hid the tint of her fiercely, pink blush. She shrugged slightly. "I needed to do something after you'd been taken away and the police had gathered all the evidence. It helped me take my mind off…"

"Worrying about me, Belle-of-mine?" He remarked wryly, though immediately regretted the jest as pain stabbed at his side once more.

Oh, but that would be impossible. She didn't, couldn't, care for a beast like him; much less spend her days fretting over her slavers health. Why would she ever be concerned for him?

Shifting to avoid a decorative pedestal down the long hall they traversed, her features crinkled thoughtfully. "I was worried about you." She revealed carefully, letting a bit of her heart steal from her lips. "The only time I got a good sleep was the day you finally awoke."

"No doubt worried what my death would mean for you." He spat grouchily as another burst of pain hit his side.

Immediately, Rumpelstiltskin regretted the cruel remark aimed for his servant girl. Belle did not deserve to be talked to in such a manner, though he did not believe her in the slightest. He couldn't believe she would actually feel fear or worry for him. How could she for a monster such as himself who took everything from her and cast her into servitude? When she'd found his carcass lying on the floor she'd probably been to frightened to finish the job or leave him there.

Belle flinched as though she had been struck physically by his cruelty and brazen untrusting. Her cobalt eyes glimmered with hurt nearly making the fiend plead for forgiveness for causing her pain in such a way, but he bit it back, too prideful to apologize.

Once they arrived to the guest room, the magical monster shook the beauty off his arm callously. Limping in sheer agony to the bed on his own he flicked his hand at her like she was nothing more than a gnat. His tender pride could not bear another minute of her helping him, making him feel like a pathetic cripple one more.

"Leave me." He ordered icily, keeping the pleading and pain from his voice.

She began to protest gently. "But-"

"Leave!" Rumpelstiltskin shouted, though gasped in pain a moment later, his hand falling to his injured side.

Could she not see he detested being hurt? To be less than the Dark One she had known in front of her; letting her see he was weak and mortal of mere flesh and bone like any other? Why could she simply not leave him alone to lick his wounds morosely and plot revenge?

Obstinately, the beauty darted to his mottled purple and blue side, not caring of his snarling or snapping nor any punishment to come down upon her head for disobeying. She placed her delicate hands gently upon his bruised torso and felt the heated throbbing of the wound and the immense discomfort it was giving him simply to breath, much less yell at her.

Pulling up the edge of his shirt as Whale had taught her, she inspected the bandage with the novice, quick taught skill. "The bandage has loosened a bit. I'll fix it." She informed the Dark One. "Let's get this shirt off you before we have to go back to the hospital."

"I'm fine." He hissed painfully, his blood heating at the touch of her hand against his battered flesh.

The beauty frowned, but plied her hands at undoing the buttons of his blue silk shirt. "No arguments. Punish me afterwards, but I am fixing them. It'll give you a little comfort."

She was correct, he knew imperatively as much as he loathed to admit. Pain lashed the entire left side of his torso, like a whip was flaying his skin. The high dosage meds were wearing off, leaving the pain almost unbearable. He couldn't argue or resist, much less dissuade her from her mission to relive the agony somewhat.

Within moments the dutiful Belle had stripped him of his silken shirt leaving his bare, dappled flesh and the bandages revealed. The coolness wafting about the room brushed against his flesh, making the fiend shiver slightly in a tenuous mixture of heat and warmth.

Heat rose to his rough face, making him feel like a young lad again to a girl who was seeing him without clothes for the first time. He didn't want her to see him so uncovered and vulnerable. Here there was not dragon scale cloak, not even a crisp suit to mask what he was. No, it was just him, a scrawny, crippled coward.

Goosebumps rose upon his flesh as her hands traced across his marred side slowly. Blood pounded in his ears with her so near, and her fingers trailing over sensitive skin like electricity gliding over his body.

Did she know what her very touch did to him? What she could have asked for and he would have granted simply to feel her warm hands gracing his form?

Gold huffed slightly in amusement, with his pain temporarily lessened with her actions. "Stubborn woman." He murmured drowsily. His lips creased mildly into a curved smile.

"Only when it serves to help you." She retorted in a tender giggle.

He remained helpless to her gentle ministrations as she fixed the bandages back in their proper place and ran her fingers in small circles at milder sore spots to relive pain. Part of the Dark One could have asked her to continue her task all night, but no, he would not give away what was so deeply rooted in his heart. Her touch was more a salve to his hurts than any medication Whale doled to him.

"Belle." Rumpelstiltskin gulped hard and uttered her name almost like a prayer. Placing a hand over hers, he made her hands stop. "I know you will argue, but what I am about to tell you is more than an order. I am asking you to do this, please."

The beauty's brows knit ponderously as her hands fell away from his skin, leaving a tingling of regret dancing through his blood.

He continued bravely, hoping his voice wouldn't crack with pain or loneliness. "In my study there is a secret compartment on the bottom of my desk. There is a sufficient amount of money and some important documents in it. I want you to take the money and put up at Granny's bed and breakfast for tonight."

"You're afraid the burglars might try to come back tonight." Belle concluded grimly. Her voice a mere whisper telling the Dark One she probably assumed as much as well.

Her cerulean depths sparkled with a knowing; knowing of him and how he thought. She was the only one in the old world or their strange new realm who knew him so well.

The fiend nodded slowly. "Yes." He admitted freely, though in all actuality it was only half truth.

There were a few things he needed to see to, one of them to speed up the process of healing and another to plot the full extent of his revenge without her hampering his heart in any way. Tonight, he needed to be the monster in full once more and with his Belle around that was nigh but impossible.

"Rum, I-" She began but faltered leaving her voice strangled with fear and emotion.

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head to interrupt the beauty. "Trust me." His eyes stared wholly into her own. Whiskey brown entangled with sapphire blue, mingling strangely in ways that made their hearts leap simultaneously. Involuntarily, he lifted a hand to her cheek tenderly, stroking her creamy flesh in small circles with his thumb.

Never had he asked openly for trust.

She would not protest, he knew with some intimate instinct that bloomed betwixt them. If he asked for trust, she would allot him all the trust in her heart.

Belle sighed in defeat and looked away. His words gripped her heart in their own, special way making her powerless to object. Her shoulders slumped lowly as she stared down at the wood floor dourly. "Alright." She whispered simply and fought for a small smile. Her eyes flashed faintly before falling back into melancholy. "But I'll be here bright and early." She promised with a will that would not be put off.

"I wouldn't expect less." Rumpelstiltskin grinned gently in reply.

One night would be all he needed to put everything in order and make those that sought to do him harm and ruin all his machinations pay in blood.


	15. What we Don't Expect

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing all! Side note: This chapter is a teensy bit longer than I anticipated. _

**~8~8~**

Darkness lay like an ebony cowl hooded upon the shire of Storybrooke just as Belle warily entered the quaint bed and breakfast nestled beside Granny's Diner. A brass bell hoisted over the door jangled a bit too loudly for her liking, making the beauty cringe an inch.

Shivering, she clutched her light brown jacket tightly about her delicate figure and took a few more steps inside the warm inn intrepidly.

Being out of the Dark One's home so late and so alone felt odd and disconcerting. She was in foreign territory in a foreign land with no help on what recourse to take, but curse placed memories to help her along the route.

The lobby was dimly minuscule, but quaint with russet and mulled burgundy and reds decorating the entire, homely waiting area. Plush cushions and knitted frills gave the bed and breakfast something of another worldly feel. Cozy, Belle decided immediately, allowing her eyes to rove freely over the bucolic cottage style décor.

The beauty clutched her small, black satchel slung about her shoulder tighter as she wandered about inside, admiring the homemade trinkets and artistic folk pieces. Being in the tiny inn felt akin to being in their old world again.

Homesickness bubbled viciously inside the beauty at the thought of their true world gone forever. Swallowing a morose lump lodged tightly in he throat, she smiled sadly upon a rocking chair tucked away in a corner. Without a doubt she knew it was an object from their ancient realm.

Her clever fingers tapered over the smooth, dark grain as though reveling in the feel of something from their world. She had never thought she'd miss home so much, even if it was in a leaden gray castle serving the Dark One forever.

"Can I help you?" A suspicious, young feminine voice suddenly inquired to the lovely beauty.

Startled, Belle jerked her hand away and swiveled about to see a tall, lithe woman with long black hair streaked with vibrant scarlet. Her gold-flecked, lupine eyes sized the beauty up curiously as though she were some strange oddity that suddenly landed in the bed and breakfast.

Belle cleared her throat nervously and grinned amicably hoping to stave off her wariness. "I'm looking for a room for a night; perhaps more." She added the last bit to avoid a string of questions.

"O…okay." The sensuous woman replied in something near to amazement and cheerfulness. A wolfish smile bloomed upon her features happily, making her face brighten. She scoffed and rolled her eyes as though forgetting her manners. "I'm Ruby, by the way. Granny's the owner; she'll be at the desk in a second."

"Annabelle." Belle greeted, her oft wary senses immediately warming to the carnelian flared Ruby.

The waitress snapped her fingers as though just reclaiming a lost thought. "Annabelle French. I was wondering where I'd seen you around. You're Mr. Gold's girl."

"Yes." The beauty confirmed with a small, shy nod, her lips a thin line at the dubbed title. "Mr. Gold's girl."

Abruptly, footsteps stomped irksomely down a flight of steps. A scolding voice rang out as a delicately plump, silver haired woman waddled down the rickety stairs. "Now Ruby I told you if that drunk, Leroy, wandered in here to call the Sheriff, we don't need-" She paused seeing the slender form of Belle clutching a singular bag nervously, her fingers plucking at the fringes.

"Granny this is Annabelle." Ruby proffered her hand to the beauty as though she were already an old friend. "She's looking for a place to crash for a few nights."

The elderly woman's tight aged face flickered with recognition and perhaps a spark of pity in her gray depths. "The one that works for Mr. Gold."

"My reputation precedes me." Belle laughed good naturedly. She wasn't offended she worked for the Dark One, nor shameful of the fact. However she was none to keen on being looked at as some sort of creature to be gazed down upon with sorrow. Though people probably speculated about her life, she was not some helpless girl bound to a fate she detested.

Grousing, the inn keeper sniffed sagaciously and plucked down a bronze key from a peg by the sign-in desk. The key was a strange thing with a novelty bronze little chain dangling at the end.

"Room four. Second door up the flight of steps." She jerked her head up to the stairs she'd descended and handed out the key.

Belle dug through her pocket that felt near to bursting with a crumpled wad of bills. "How much do I owe you?"

"On the house." Granny returned; her tone dry and sardonic.

The anxious beauty tilted her head up sharply, her brow knit in confusion. "Wait, don't you want any money?" She asked in uncertainty.

Unless she remembered wrong there was always payment for things with bills. One could not barter eggs or fieldwork or even fealty as they could do in their old realm for shelter and protection.

Granny smiled thinly and shook her stray silver hair that slipped from her coifed bun. "I pay rent to that monster every month. You have to work for him everyday. Do you think I'm going to charge his personal assistant anything to stay here?"

"I…I hadn't seen it that way." The beauty stammered, unsure if it was pity dictating her free stay or fear of her master. Putting the wrinkled ball of bills back in her pocket, she grinned bashfully, hoping she did not seem to out of place and suspicious.

The older lady snorted imperiously uncaring and sighed as she began her laborious trek slowly, but determinedly up the stairs. As she ascended she hollered back down to Ruby in her no nonsense timbre. "And make sure that drunk doesn't get in again!"

"Yes, Granny." She replied in a long suffering sigh and rolled her eyes comically at Belle, causing the beauty to giggle. "Speaking of drunks." Her tone lowered conspiratorially as she dipped back from whence she had come and produced a few green and clear bottles of all shapes.

Ruby lifted them victoriously and smiled at the newest resident, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Tonight's a full moon. Great time for drinking. The nights still young, want to join me?"

Belle's features shadowed with uncertainty at the offer. She wasn't the heaviest imbiber of liquor, but she did have the night off and Rum was safely back at home. "Um…I'm not…"

"Oh come on." Ruby pleaded happily as she swept the beauty towards a back room before Belle could protest. "It's no fun to drink alone and I usually know everyone in town, but I don't know you, meaning we have to chat so I can keep my sterling reputation of knowing people." She slapped Belle on the back heartily. "Besides you seem a little tense. No doubt working for that creature, Gold. You could use a few drinks."

Well, Belle considered mildly as the waitress jostled her in a private back room and bantered friendlily, she had been a touch stressed since the whole stabbing fiasco. What could one or two drinks hurt? Perhaps, she smiled, catching on to Ruby's activity, she might take it as a celebration to his recovering health.

Before the beauty knew it, the two were sitting at an old rickety table with shot glasses in their hands and speaking like they were old friends well into the night.

~8~8~

What was to have been one drink turned into a binge of alcoholic wonderment for the normally secluded Belle.

With each hour came a new concoction for the beauty to try done up by the expert drinker Ruby. Spirit after spirit was drained betwixt the new friends till only a few bottles remained with any liquid sloshing in their insides.

The air reeked profusely of alcohol of all different creeds, filling the room like a smells from a tavern in their old realm. Glass bottles rolled about the aged wood floor as the two remained talking of all and sundry.

They jabbered of friends and family and work and Granny and a bit of Mr. Gold, though the beauty remained dodged and vague of him even whilst in her drunken state. When even those subjects had been twisted dry, they wandered into truths of the heart speaking of loves the curses had instilled in their heads.

"So wait." Ruby attempted valiantly to keep her features serious in her utterly drunken state. Pointing lopsidedly at Belle her glossy lips broke into a toothy grin. "You've had feelings for this guy for a while now, but you've been trying to talk yourself out of it?" She finished, her voice slurred and puzzled.

Belle drained another shot glass filled of fiery swill and shook her head fervently. The world spun dazedly all about, but she managed not to tip out of her chair and cling to the dusty floor for dear life. "I…I don't have feelings for him…." She stared hard at the glass in her grip as though it would confirm her words. "At least I think I don't."

The beauty's features wrinkled in deep pondering, as her spun the empty glass between her warm palms. No, she couldn't possibly have feelings for her master. Any sort of emotion her body felt for him was most assuredly a side effect of her capture and thralldom.

He wasn't abhorrently vile and ugly. In truth she thought he looked dashingly handsome in human form and even in the flesh of the Dark One she did not find him grotesque as the legends claimed, merely odd.

Oh but that was not what gave her pause to deny her surfacing feelings. Rumpelstiltskin was the Dark One, a supposedly evil master of magic, and twice her master being that she was his property.

Many had dubbed him a monster for just reason. There was no denying he could be beastly and cruel and monstrous and dangerous when the mood took him.

Women were not deigned nor bred to fall in love with snarling beasts and growling monsters, they were meant to be repulsed by them and swoon madly for their rescuers who were rugged and brave. And yet…yet everything was all so different for her. She felt warmth for her master and shunned the brute in plate to be her 'savior'.

There was no desire for anyone to save her; she wanted the monster and wanted him to want her or so her strange heart kept insisting in the deep crags of her soul. Perhaps, she thought wryly as she poured another shot, the villages in her old home had been right to deem her odd.

"How do you know he doesn't feel the same way?" The red tinged Ruby hiccupped loudly as she grabbed for their last bottle. Forgoing her own shot glass, the luscious waitress gulped down a fair amount and planted it back on the table with a rattling thud.

If she only knew the man they were discussing was Mr. Gold Belle was certain her new found friend would not have agreed with any notion of her feelings for him being in her mind and heart.

Thankfully, she was far to wasted to put the links together in her mind.

"He doesn't." The russet haired beauty replied dourly. Her eye began to well mistily with the hot sting of tears at the open admittance that scorched her soul like a heated brand. But she brushed them back, blaming them on the fire of the brew. "At least I don't think he does. The way he is, I think he would have a hard time believing me. He's very guarded, very careful never to let others see what goes on beneath. "

Guarded was an understatement in every way. Rumpelstiltskin hid his true heart under the thick layers of darkness swathing his soul. What good that dwelled in the recesses of his heart lay tucked away in a corner to hide from all others. Always, there was a veil or mask to make him seem a beast or a monster that did not truly exist under the fangs and snapping.

"See that's your problem." Ruby interrupted Belle's thoughts unknowingly and slid the quarter empty bottle to her companion once more. "You, think, think, think. Now don't get me wrong, that's not a bad thing, but sometimes, Anna, you need to let go of the thinking and the reasons." Her gold flecked eyes took on a rabid, feral glint in their lupine depths. "Sometimes you just need to go wild and take the plunge and see what happens when you get to the bottom."

Belle could be bold to strike a bargain to save her village and slave for a renowned monster known for his barbarity. But bold enough to let her heart free and exposed to reject and disgust?

The beauty shook her dark amber mane and curled her fingers tightly about the bottles neck. "I'm not that daring, I'm afraid."

"Well to bad." Ruby sighed as though some romantic moment like the ones on television could have happened to her new best friend if she'd only been brave to confront him.

Her red painted fingernails played through a small puddle of alcohol upon the table as she yawned. In a way she felt sorry for Anna having to work and live for practically nothing, and then be too frightened of the future to have the guts and step to the guy she was sincerely attracted to.

"To bad you couldn't have some of this stuff on you." To extenuate her point she picked up a drained bottle from the floor and shook it temptingly. "All the courage you need." Lazily heaving the empty bottle over her shoulder she smiled haphazardly. Both cringed as the glass shattered with a sharp crack that pierced the air.

Looking to one another warily, the pair burst into an unsuppressed fit of giggles. Granny hollered distempered from the second floor and slammed her foot down overhead, making the pair laugh harder.

Though her world was spinning like a top and her head felt lighter than air, Belle suddenly found a plan dawning on her like the suns first rays upon the earth. Stalwartly, she stifled her bubbling peals of merriment under control and grinned widely at the waitress. "Ruby you're a genius."

"Tell me something I don't know, Hun." She slurred in her drunken stupor. The red streaked servers head began to sink forward to the table, her long lashed lids drooping heavier. For some reason it seemed as though the energy was being drained from her former wildness.

The beauty rose teetering to her feet, trying to make the world stay still. "What…what time is it…?"

"'Round midnight I think." Ruby muttered drowsily. "Funny, I always seemed to get worn out around this time during the full…" She got no further and toppled from her chair in a drunken heap.

Fortunately, she did not slam upon any bottle, but lay in a deep sleep surrounded by the glass' bereft of their intoxicating contents.

The beauty seemed far too drunk to notice her friends dazed doze. Knocking the wayward tendrils of her chestnut tresses from her face, Belle nodded determinedly. She grabbed her small pack from beside the chair and slipped into her jacket in one smooth motion. "Good. I haven't broken any orders and I can finally tell him what's been eating me alive."

Ruby's only reply was a raucous snore as Belle tumbled out into the night headed for the Dark One's pink mansion.

~8~8~

Rumpelstiltskin grinned in grim satisfaction as he painfully rested a large, rectangular box upon the kitchen table. The grimy container was sewn from gold dragon hide now turned into a dusky brown coated with dust. Inside held the only magical items he decided to take along to their new world in case of emergencies.

Opening the lock with a tiny silver key, the fiend flipped the lid to reveal a myriad of tiny bottles all glittering with potions he'd tucked away. His face glimmered with their vibrant rainbow hues making the shadows fall back into the lonesome corners

Hastily, he plucked out a thick, red concoction tucked into a corner slot. Holding up to his face, Rumpel took a moment to admire his handiwork in creating such a powerful elixir.

With a quick twist he uncorked the potent brew and swigged it down in one greedy gulp.

Fire felt as though it slid down his throat, but he managed to keep it down. Grimacing at the unpleasant after taste and aroma of such a foul serum, the fiend busied himself by placing the empty bottle back and closing the case carefully.

Part of him thought of the potion as a reward of sorts. All through the night he'd worked tirelessly to comb the banks of his vast memory, and make a few nondescript phone calls to people who owed him 'favors'. In a matter of hours, unlike the police, who toiled months to bring the thieves in to justice, the people who did him ill were in his mind, and the exact location of where they were dwelling.

Of course he would phone the sheriff of their whereabouts in a few days once their bodies had settled into rot and banished all trace of his presence, but for the moment he celebrated by restoring his broken body.

Warmth flowed pleasantly through the Dark One as he leaned back in the chair and allowed the potion to do its task. Healing suffused his battered side and became a balm to his cracked and broken ribs. Each crack and splinter of his bones melded back in its proper place leaving only a dull ache and the horrid black and purple mottled liberally on his side to tell there had been an injury at all.

The pain would stay for a few more days, he knew imperatively, but at least he was not hobbling about as some crippled invalid, who could scarcely scale stairs.

Rising, in a much grander mood than a few hours prior, the fiend patted his hidden jacket pocket for the unregistered gun and grabbed his cane in one smooth motion. At the rate he was feeling he considered meeting his Belle at Granny's in the morning and treating her to breakfast.

Determined to do just that right after he tortured and killed the fools that sought him harm, Rumpelstiltskin began to weave his way to the front.

A dull knock at the door suddenly echoed throughout his dark home, made the fiend quiver with expectation. He smiled malevolently and clutched the steel of the gun eagerly. Who knew the idiots would attempt to venture back and finish the job.

Creeping as silently as he could to the door, Rumpelstiltskin tested his grip on the gun and prepared to open it taking the men by surprise.

Excitement galloped through his blood in a tsunami as he let the door swing open only to be met with a disheveled Belle smiling widely at him.

To say he was shocked to see his slave girl standing their in the dead of night would have been the biggest understatement of the decade. Regina could have gone skipping by, her arms laden with puppies and rainbows and he would have nary given her a glance.

"Good morning, Rum!" Belle greeted, her chipper words slurred nearly beyond comprehension. She tilted to the left, but caught herself uncertainly and giggled crazily.

The light from the porch, while dim in the murky blackness, revealed her features disheveled and wild like some strange creature of the night. Her features were a ruddy rose in the eerier luminescence, telling the fiend she'd been up to something.

The smell of alcohol oozed off her form, giving him a clue exactly what the matter at hand stemmed from.

The Dark One stammered, taken aback by her sudden appearance. "Belle…what are you doing here, Dearie?"

"I told you I would be here bright and early. And I always keep my promises, master." The drunken beauty poked a finger into his chest and lurched forward only to catch herself.

He uttered a small, nervous laugh, his emotions surprisingly joyous to see her. "I hardly meant one in the morning, Belle-of-mine." Placing a hand on her shoulder the fiend's sharp eyes scanned the darkness for any who could be nearby or see her in such an exposed state.

There was no way he could order her back to the bed and breakfast in her inebriated demeanor. Some one might see her and then who knew what. Ushering her inside, the fiend whispered to her. "Come inside; you're drunk."

Belle drunk. Rumpelstiltskin fought hard not to break into a large grin. Had circumstances been different and he not on his way to avenge himself of the wrongs cast against him, he would have laughed and shook his head at her mischief.

Belle teetered perilously inside like a hand pushed and pulled her through the pink manse. She pitched and swayed with every intoxicated step, making the Dark One fear her taking a grievous spill.

Happiness brimmed from ear to ear upon her skewed features as she rambled on of her nightly adventures. "Let me tell you, Granny's bed and breakfast is a marvelous place. I had a wonderful time with my new friend Ruby." The beauty exclaimed perhaps a bit to loudly. "We drank all sorts of scrumptious concoctions!"

"I can see that, Dearie." He smiled faintly. Part if the fiend cursed himself for foolishness knowing he should have seen Ruby and Belle's meeting. The vivacious, outgoing waitress was not a thing the beauty needed right after a worrisome event.

Placing his hand around her shoulder he began to help her up to her room. For now, the best, safest place for his Belle was in her room preferably asleep and out of trouble after her drunken carouse.

"We talked all night, and she's a really interesting and so is her Granny." Belle related in drunken happiness obvious to her masters pulsing irritation.

Her steps were perilously close to being nonexistence and with every foot fall she looked as though her legs would give out completely and she would simply pass out on the ground.

Cursing under his breath, the Dark One knew there was no time to succeed in revenge that night; not when she was in such a state. If he'd left it'd be she who'd be in the hospital for doing something foolish like striking her head on something. How she made it home without a scratch seemed like a miracle in and of itself.

The going was brutally slow as the Dark One helped her to her corner bed room on the second floor. Cool air whispered all about the room near voided room, but for Rumpelstiltskin it felt like his body was on fire. In less than two days she'd been so close he could make out every little detail of her body.

Leading her to her quaint quilted bed, he focused determinedly on just getting her settled then plotting another route of vengeance.

Laughter erupted from her lips as she wrapped her arms around the Dark One's neck to keep aright. "We had so many types of drinks. Vodka and whiskey and beer, but do you know the one I liked best?"

"I'm afraid I don't." He remarked off handedly whilst trying to keep her upright and relieve her of her thick jacket.

Abruptly, the beauty lurched straight into his already grasping arms, her body even closer to his than previously. Silver slivers of moon light danced across her porcelain face in the near pitch darkness. She grinned widely and giggled once more and answered her own inquiry. "Rum was my favorite. All of them were delicious, but rum tasted…different."

Her features transformed in the gilded beams of the lunar lantern from drunken merriment to something strange the Dark One had only seen in his dream. Her voice drifted into a shadowed whisper. "I…I wonder what you taste like…."

Before he could say a word, before he could even breathe, the beauty leaned forward, closing what little space sat between him and pressed her lush lips to his own.

Light exploded in the fiend's head at the unexpected event. His mind became nothing more than a blank slate, leaving him open and vulnerable. Shocked beyond belief, the Dark One lost his balance causing both of them to collapse upon the bed in one whoosh. Springs creaked and groaned noisily, the only sound pounding in Rumpelstiltskin's ears along with his gushing blood.

Her mouth sloppily plundered his own, her arms wrapping tighter about his neck to deepen the surprising kiss.

The entire world did not move for the Dark One. Her mouth tasted of a myriad of spirits ranging from the more sedate to the wild. Oh how many times had he dreamt of feeling her velvet lips upon his own! Eternity raced by in his head with her mouth suffused with his. Nothing had meaning with her so near and close and…kissing him!

Sheer, white brilliance blotted out his mind for an instant merely at the thought. His mouth locked tightly against her own, owning and thirsty for her sweet kiss.

Panic suddenly raced though Rumpelstiltskin at the once glorious thought now terrifying as the magic of the enchanting gesture dissipated like smoke upon the wind. She was kissing him.

Untangling his lips, more out of the sudden terror of it all than anything else, he stared at her wide eyed in wonderment and horror.

Moon beams cast her face in a silver pall and alit her russet curls into a dark, silky auburn spread wild about her face and down her shoulders. For Rumpelstiltskin, she seemed like magic incarnate caught in the mystical sheen.

Belle blinked; rapidly as though even in her abject drunkenness she knew something vastly different had been conjured between them. The look only last for a moment before her drunken grin plastered back upon her features.

"You taste exactly how I thought you would." She laughed, not mockingly, but tenderly and twirled a lock of his dirty brown hair upon her little finger. "Sweet with a touch of mystery and a hint of bitterness. I…I like it."

"Belle…" Rumpelstiltkin stammered numbly, his mind unable to comprehend what occurred in those few moments. Shock and terror danced in his whiskey brown depths as he searched her intently. She actually kissed him.

Her gentle hand stroked his rough cheek as she looked deeply into his awe stricken eyes, with her blood shot orbs. Heat spread like an unquenchable flame through her figure and pooled in her belly with foreign desire. So long she had dreamed of him, fancied of him.

Softly, her body shifted under him in an entirely different way. "Now that I have tasted you, Rumpelstiltskin, I wonder what you feel like."

Her words, so tinged with drunken attraction made his head spin. Surely it was simply the alcohol talking; the vile swill confusing her head and heart and whatever craziness planted into her skull. Yet, that did not stop his heart from somersaulting in his chest.

He was lying atop her, her breath warm against his cheek and flesh like satin when it brushed along his body. He knew he shouldn't have been there, but she was intoxicating to him, far more than any amount of ale or wine would ever be.

She kissed him once more, long and deep, their mouths lost in desperate, curious exploration. Oh she tasted sweeter than the very magic he once wielded!

Her clever fingers plucked away the light blue buttons she'd undone only hours before, but this time for far different reason. There was a desire to feel him and know him, in a way she'd kept stifled for what felt like two eternities and beyond.

For what seemed like hours upon hours they searched one another lips in the honeyed nectar of their soft kisses. The soft silver light slipping through the window barely displayed their forms shedding every article of clothing they donned upon their bodies. Wool and silk pooled upon the floor or lay haphazardly upon her bed in the strange night.

The Dark One's body yearned for her like a thirsty man did water. He felt her flesh under him, so warm and inviting, felt desire surge for the beauty kissing him. And yet…he untangled his lips regretfully, pulling away only an inch as though even that hairs space was to far. Had he come so far only to back away like a coward?

His breath was haggard and ragged and his naked form trembled faintly. "Belle, you're drunk."

"I'm quite aware." She kissed his stubble chin and jaw line, temptingly, her mouth hungry for his lips.

Closing his eyes to block the gorgeous image of her under him, he shook his head determinedly. "We can't do this. You're not thinking strait." How could she even want to…lay with a monster?

"No…no I am." She replied earnestly. Her slurred voice attempted to be resolved and steady as thought she were not inebriated.

So long she tried to suppress her feelings and turned a blind eye to what flourished in her heart. After his brush with demise she could no longer stifle her hearts desire so easily. She cared for him. Cared for her master in a way she had never cared about someone ever before. Drinking had given her the extra push to do something she'd never do sober; it made her take an unexpected risk; a plunge as Ruby had termed it. And now it was he who refused to leap.

Her eye lids felt heavier than lead as she lovingly stared at him, wishing he'd make a move and hurtle them both into a world of abject bliss.

Fear sparked suddenly in her inebriated heart. Did he truly not care for her as she did he? Was he repulsed by her drunken action, relying on spirits to bolster her courage?

Her mouth opened to protest to beg him to take her, but the lure of drunken oblivion was to much to fight. Within moments she was a still, figure under him, her breathing even and steady with troubled sleep.

Cold sweat pricked at the Dark One like pins sticking his exposed flesh. Just looking down upon her he desired her. His heart desired her passionately more than anything else in all of Storybrooke. Every breath he breathed was for her and he wished she'd steal every bit of air away with her lush kiss.

Oh it would have been so deliciously easy to take what his carnal needs desired then and there. She would have no room to protest in the morning light, or any excuse to make. Wonderment pounded harder through his blood merely at the thought.

Yet…

Tenderly, the Dark One pressed his forehead against her own and whispered gently to her unconscious body lost in deep repose. He swallowed hard as he forced all his will not to act upon what his body screamed.

"How I wish you had never called me kind." Rumpelstiltskin sighed lugubriously. His normally strong voice choked with want and regret.

If she had loathed him and thought him a beast he would not have been half as reluctant. He would not have cared a whit of what she would feel when the gray dawn tinted the trees and she was sober. Greedily, he would have taken the very last thing she owned to sate his lust and not felt a morsel of remorse.

But she did not deserve such cruelty, for she was the first woman to have ever called him kind and made him feel more like a man than even when he was a spindly cripple.

She never saw his beastliness those long first days ago. She thought him honorable under his calloused masks. She was loyal and gentle and dutiful and tender and much more lovely companionship than he deserved to have when she laughed and smiled.

She was Belle, and he would not defile her no matter what she said in her ardent drunkenness, or what he felt boiling in his body ready to explode.

Regretfully, the fiend planted one chaste kiss upon her lips and slid from off the bed, his body aching for her. The darkness gratefully hid his naked form as he hastily donned his pants and gathered his suit jacket from the floor.

Though the room was almost darker than a bottomless pit, the fiend found a spare blanket and draped it over her still figure. Taking time to look down upon her half adumbrated features in the scant moonlight his lips pulled into a thin regretful line. She was gorgeous and he could have had her. If he had not chosen to reign in the beast.

A sigh fell darkly from his mouth as he turned away. There was no use regretting what he gave up. Instead, he focused intently upon what the sun would bring for them both.

In the light of day there would be much to say; very much. At least, he grinned grisly, he would have the rest of the night to scan his words and plan what he could say to her.

Making sure everything was in prime shape with his limited vision; the Dark One morosely strode out. His footsteps scarcely made a sound though it wouldn't have mattered in her drunken reprieve.

Out in the dim hall a few rays of moon light illuminated way to his study with their gilded glow. His cane thudded dully along in dour tempo with his slow steps as he wandered along.

Paying no heed to the beautiful night, the fiend lightly limped down the hall, his mind awhirl upon the unexpected night and the drastic changes their actions, and what nearly had occurred would conjure.


	16. The Morning After

_A/N: Thanks for reading a reviewing amigos!_

**~8~8~**

Brilliant gouts of pain throbbed incessantly inside Belle's fragile skull as she first awoke. Nausea squalled violently in her gut and her throat felt hoarse and dry like an age old dessert. Her entire body shuddered, weaker than a new born babe, and her senses swirled with confusion and grogginess put on from far too much ale.

Groaning loudly, the beauty shifted slightly upon the bed only to flop her arm over her closed eyes to block out the stray golden streams of light that managed to slip through the drawn curtains and slant in her face. Even with her eyes closed she felt the brilliant light searing her retinas and burning through her lids.

Her dizzy head felt as though a troop of hardy dwarves had taken a will to mine out her skull, and were going at so with a hearty vigor. The slightest sound, even the chirp of a snow bird clanged like a thunder clap in a fierce gale.

"Never again." She muttered in a pain laced oath filled deeply with loathing regret. Her free hand pounded the firm mattress as she uttered a dark swear completely unladylike to her previous rank of princess. "Never _ever _again."

If Ruby ever came her way hefting a bottle of any sort Belle determined in herself to run as far as possible. The waitress wasn't ill meaning by any stretch of the imagination, but she was perhaps a bit to wild for Belle's more mild nature.

At least, Belle consoled herself and managed a sickly grin to sprint upon her queasy features, her new found friend would most certainly have something to combat the dire hangover looming upon her shoulder like some ravenous vulture. Their new land was rife with medicinal wonders, surely there had to be an elixir to combat the unscrupulous after effects of far too much drinking.

Cheered by the thought of healing over her throbbing brain, Belle squinted her eyes open perilously and hauled herself shakily upon her elbows. Shock froze upon the beauty's pale, slightly greenish pall to see she was not in the room she'd rented out but the cream colored, lovely room in Rumpelstiltskin's home.

Her sapphire orbs strafed over the room confusedly as though seeing it for the first time. That couldn't be right. Why was she back home?

To be truthful she hadn't known how she'd managed to awake in a bed. Part of her merely dredged up the conclusion after drinking Ruby under the table she'd climbed the stairs in her drunken state, managed to unlock her room and fell asleep in the comforting safety of Granny's quaint bed and breakfast, or perhaps the kindly, yet stern Granny had aided her.

How in all and creation had she gotten back in the salmon pink manse of her master? Her delicate brow furrowed inquisitively. Had he collected her sometime in the night and she didn't recall?

Scratching her russet mane in confusion, Belle noticed her arm lay bare against the slightly chill air swarming the home. Fear plummeted in her belly like a stone sent into a well to see her soft flesh instead of cloths. She wasn't wearing the light blue blouse she'd donned the day before. Only her peach toned skin met her suddenly worried gaze. In fact, the beauty gulped harrowingly and tremulously peeled away the cover to find to her ever growing horror she was not wearing one shred of clothing.

Intrepidly the beauty leaned over towards the very precipice of the bed despite the tilting jar in her brain. Her jeans and silky blouse lay in a heap upon the floor whilst her black jacket was folded neatly over a chair tucked in a corner.

Following the trail of clothing of undergarments and shoes, the beauty gasped in terror to see a blue dress shirt hanging from the very edge of her bed; the same shirt she had unbuttoned from her master the day before.

Memories of the night before erupted in her mind like a searing bolt of lightening. She recalled walking home and the gray dog tugging at the very end of her blue blouse making her haphazardly walk in the right direction. She remembered banging on her masters door violently at some abhorrent hour, letting him help her up to her room, and then…

Appalled, Belle slowly covered her open mouth with a small quaking hand. Her flesh suddenly went cold as day old ash. Blood drained from her face turning her peachy skin a sickly gray parlor.

She hadn't…oh but the fogged memories of his lips against hers her body shedding his clothes and he doing vice versa for her seemed all too real. The touch of his hands still lingered upon her body like the warmth of flame, his rough kisses now gentle reminders upon her lips like a faint sea breeze upon her cheek.

Gulping what felt like a boulder wedged in her throat, the beauty considered how far they had gone. The last thing she could recall was him hovering over him and her saying something then all going black with the effects of alcohol washing over her.

Her distempered belly twirled not simply with a protesting gut, but of newly conjured butterflies fluttering all about her insides. Heat flowed through her body as she placed a hand gently upon her stomach. Had they gone so far?

A sob conjoined with a heave of her rebelling stomach blurted from Belle's lips disgustingly. Her grip flew to her mouth to keep her from spewing last night carouse in every direction. Caught between sickness and anxious thoughts, the beauty scrambled up frantically and raced to the bathroom opposite side of the hall.

Her entire naked form trembled violently as she fell to her knees at a jarring pace and emptied her ailing stomach. Gripping the pristine, ceramic bowl she heaved her churning guts 'til she simply wished for oblivion. Fire cruelly scathed her raw throat making simply trying to swallow an unbearable task. The force of vomit brought hot tears pricking her eyes. Humiliation swelled in her soul, coming up like her painful heaves.

Once the rivulets of tears began to brook down her porcelain face, she found herself unable to control them. Fisting her hands to cover her throbbing eyes she attempted to quell the flood of scalding tears, but on they came without restraint, without her normal stoic check to barricade them away.

Nothing went as she'd pictured wished in her drunken, heart longing thoughts. She wanted to come last night and relate what grew in the crevices and cracks if her heart for her master, not…not…give herself to him like some hapless tavern maid.

Of nervous habit, the beauty chewed her lush bottom lip worriedly. What would he think of her now, she pondered fearfully? Would he send her away, or perhaps find something more devious to do with her seeing that she made herself seem so unscrupulous.

She wanted to cry and scream and shake her fists to the firmament, cursing herself and cursing her womanly heart. Why had she come, why had she been so foolish! Better that she'd simply passed out wasted in the street or the gutter like the drunkard Leroy than have managed to stagger her way back to the master in such a distasteful, foolish state.

Even in her unsuppressed sobbing, Belle's ear astutely perked to the all too familiar thud of an ash wood cane. The noise drummed rhythmically in her ear like the tattoo of the death drum beaten at every hanging.

Before she could move to shut the door, even if she wasn't vomiting up everything in her belly and drowned in tears, he appeared at the entryway like some shadowy wraith.

He was dressed crisp per usual. His dark blue suit garbed over his wiry body neatly without thread out of place. To Belle it seemed that he could never be effected by any surprise or any change while she sat weeping a spewing her guts over what had occurred betwixt them.

For a moment he stood in his usual position with his gold tipped cane planted in front of him. His dark brown eyes sat pinioned upon her, making the beauty wish to curl up and simple disappear from existence.

How she desired for him to say something, anything, but he remained silent as stone, and colder still. She wished to scream at him to go away and leave her to wallow in her mire of pain and pity, but had not the strength to vomit and yell at the same time.

After an eternal moment, he limped away with nary a word to pass his thin lips. If he left out of pity, disgust, or anger, Belle couldn't tell. But in retrospect nor did she care; all that mattered was that he was gone away to allow her humiliation in peace.

Sweat drenched her ashen, pallid brow making tendrils of her russet hair gum to her face. Placing her clammy forehead upon her forearm she closed her eyes and simply imagined she did not exist and the master was not planning to do something to her.

She was a fool, Belle cursed herself without the hate she had in her body. Punching her fist against the wall, she snarled profanities at herself thrice over. A stupid, moronic fool!

Now he would surely cast her away. All she'd done was bring trouble with her drunken thoughts; trouble she feared her and her father would have to pay. If he dismissed her the contract was nullified, if the agreement was void he could swoop in and take every cent and more.

Lost in the shadowy morose of her forlornness, the beauty did not hear the light thump of the cane return. This time the sound of the solid tap did not halt at the threshold of the bathroom.

Warmth engulfed the beauty so suddenly she jumped in surprise upon the unexpected touch. Something soft covered bare form and wrapped about her body to hide her nakedness.

Blinking in confusion, Belle perched her head up in numb curiosity to see he had returned with a burgundy blanket. Slowly, almost nervously Rumpelstiltskin draped it over her body while trying to look away respectfully.

Belle stared at the blanket then back at the Dark One in startled surprise. Though she didn't know why, the heartfelt gesture dammed the tears and stooped their flow as if he'd summoned magic to block them.

Taking a wash cloth from the nearby closet, Gold drenched it in clear cool water from the sink. His golden handled cane clattered insipidly to the white tiled floor as he intrepidly knelt down to her level. Pain slashed across his rough face at the action, his knee utterly screaming in torment. The Dark One knelt in front of the beauty, uncaring of the tears and filth flecking her face. A small smile twitched at the edge of his lips, in a way that spoke louder than any words of comfort.

He would not demand and explanation for the night. No, at present all eh desired was for to help her ailing.

Belle was completely helpless to his touch as he lifted her chin with his finger tips and washed her face clean of stray flecks of vomit and dirty tears. The cold water soothed her fevered skin like balm to a wound. His touch, while rough and calloused took gentle care as though he handed the most delicate of glass.

Belle wrapped the warm blanket about her form tightly and looked away from him as best she could. Embarrassment surged within her like a tide with him seeing her so low and vulnerable. But, she thought direly, what was lower than how she'd come home last night?

Last night. Scarlet tinted her cheeks vibrantly at the mere thought of the two words. How could he even look at her after what she'd done? In her drunken addled brain she'd basically thrown her virtue to the wind and allowed him access to her most inner world.

"Fear not." His calm, accented voice soothed as though he read her mind through the heat blooming under her skin. Taking the cloth away from her cleaned face, he lightly turned her face so that her eyes locked to his own. A small, grin barely curled at the end of his lips. "I possess many things, but I will never steal something so precious as that."

Belle opened her mouth to say something. She wanted to thank him and to ask why. To inquire why he had not taken advantage of her blackened senses, to ask why he was so chivalrously kind. A strangled, grateful sob born from relief and perhaps something different tore from her throat instead.

Tears burned her cobalt depths once more, marring his face behind their shimmering wet. In that moment, she knew without a doubt she loved him. Not because her heart whispered to her so, or her drunken thoughts let her emotions run free. No, because she _knew _with every fiber of her being she loved all of him. Nothing in this world or the other could dissuade her otherwise.

Leaning into him, she spoke gratefully into his chest, her words slightly muffled by his silken shirt. "Thank you."

"No matter." He replied nervously, his body still unused to her so close. "I only want you to get better."

A small huff of a laughed crossed her lips to fight away the tears. "I had hoped this world possessed some cure for these accursed hangovers."

She could tell he smiled as he looked down fondly upon her and stroked her slightly dampened tresses. "Not even these strange folk know a cure for too much ale. They have some drugs to aid that come in red pills."

"I'll take a thousand of those." She quipped nervously in a tiny huff of a laugh. The tears dissipated entirely from her eyes, replacing trepidation in their stead. He was close, so very close, but she enjoyed him near.

The Dark One grinned wider in return, though in his heart the turmoil grew ever more lethal. Even after such a disaster between them, she only wearing a blanket, felt so comfortable to even exchange a quip.

What did it all mean?

~8~8~

The day passed slowly for master and slave as each took to inward reprieves of the heart. Each quietly nursed their own thoughts, throwing fears and denial and admittances all together in some noxious stew of emotions.

No words had been uttered since they left the bathroom in the early morning, leaving the dim home eerily silent without her singing or chatting and his comments. Event he rambunctious Lady skulked about silently, with only supporting looks to her mistress and perhaps veiled irritation to the Dark One, if dogs could hold glare irritatingly.

The pair wandered the home like lost ghosts, denied their right to the after life and forced to spend eternity phantasm with only thoughts and memories. They stayed beside one another as though tethered by some intangible force, but always turned away when the other was caught looking or staring curiously.

Belle toyed with a stale bread crumb upon the kitchen counter in the late evening as she prepared to make dinner. Ingredients sat on the table half forgotten, leaving the beauty lost in deep thought. Had she truly admitted to herself she loved him?

Of course there was no more denying that she did, but what had prodded her to proclaim the fact nearly aloud? Surely he could not feel the same which was why he was avoiding her because he knew what had almost tumbled from her lips. Perhaps he was plotting of ways to send her away, not comfortable with her being their and the confession so close.

"Belle." His low voice drifted to her. He spoke to her gently as though she were some timid bird that might fly away. Nervousness crackled off his skin like magic.

A small smile pecked upon her lips. "Master, I-."

The Dark One shook his head mildly and waved a hand slightly through the air. "Don't…don't call me that anymore." He requested and limped inside the lovely kitchen.

At one point being deferred to so respectfully felt powerful. Now it seemed wrong. He had never truly seen her as a slave but a companion on most days. True, a companion he had to acquire by sparing an entire people a flood of bloodshed, but they had transformed to so much more in the time together.

"Very well." Belle cleared her throat and bobbed her head obediently. Her eyes scanned the room, unsure where to place them. She hadn't felt so nervous since she'd first begin to toil in the Dark Castle.

Limping over to the table, Rumpelstiltskin pawed lamely at a few ingredients nervously. Wariness plagued him as though he were a pathetic spinner again. Why did she make him always feel so vastly inadequate even when he knew he was not the one to feel embarrassed?

"Would you like if I helped you with dinner?" He broached cautiously, his voice cracking faintly.

He was trying, Belle knew touchingly, a spark of tenderness alighting in her heart. He was trying his best to mend the broken fence; the silently agreed barrier she'd torn all asunder in the darkest hours of morn.

A ghost of a smile hinted her pink lips, her eyes glimmering. "That would be wonderful."

"Great, what are we making?" Gold nearly sighed in vast relief, his bony shoulders slumping. At least she was attempting to patch her side of the border as well.

Belle sighed and shrugged. "I had been planning to make vegetables on a bed of rice and fish, but to tell the truth doing all of that tonight seems…."

"Tedious." He tersely nodded his head in agreement.

"How about I teach you the fine art of ordering in?" She arched a brow jestingly and laughed for what felt like the first time in years.

A wry grin slipped upon his rough face. "Pizza or Chinese?"

Thirty minutes later the pair sat at the kitchen table with a piping hot supreme pizza before them. Two cups of peach tea with little tendrils of gray steam swirling from their contents, sat to their side awaiting their use. The smell of cheese, onions, and sauce wafted about the air dreamily, sending their empty bellying growling like ravenous wolves.

Neither had eaten the entire day, for both had been too worried to down a morsel. Now with the meal before them, hunger surged through their bellies with vigor.

Both bantered with forced normally into their tones as they shared the goosey delight of pizza. If they could pretend nothing happened, perhaps they'd be alright. Perhaps things could go with a modicum or normalcy again and they could deny the night and the morning where kindness and carnal desire had been so brazenly displayed.

"The police still haven't found Bandit I take it?" Bell queried in a muffled voice, her mouth full of pizza.

Gold bit unenthusiastically into his slice, his face a sheet of confusion. "Bandit?" He echoed as he swallowed.

"Lady's love. The dog that saved your life." She explained.

His mouth twisted slightly in mock disapproval as he chewed another bite. Admittedly, the dog had earned his respect that horrid night he'd burst through, though the Dark One had his doubts the dog had been aiming to save him. "I thought I said not to name it."

"Well you were the first one to term it a 'bandit' so technically you named it." Belle retorted expertly, her grin victorious in its own sweet way.

Gold huffed once in defeat to her words and munched on another portion. Amused emotions glimmered happily in his eyes at her perception. Yes, perhaps they could forget about what had happened.

With that, she took another gigantic bite, she left a dollop of red sauce upon her nose.

Without thinking, the Dark One grabbed a napkin and leaned over the table, wiping the splotch away in one smooth motion.

Immediately, Belle's mind drifted back to the morning. Panic tried to suppress the thought to keep what modest normally they'd built, but it tumbled away like a poor built wall.

No matter how they tried to fool themselves again, she had so very nearly spoken words that could never be taken back. He knew it and she knew it worst of all. They could never go back to master and servant once more.

Tears welled in her indigo eyes at the memories and what tenuous little peace they had lost by her actions. Foolish, she chided inwardly. Her foolish actions had wrought their change.

His eyes too flashed with remembrance of the dawn, though he was better at hiding the recognition.

"Excu…" Belle meant to say, but the words shriveled in her throat.

Grabbing her cup of tea she hastily departed into a side room leaving the Dark One all alone with his heart in turmoil.

He just had to wipe the sauce form her face. The Dark One kicked himself violently at his blunder. Why had he ruined what good they'd gotten going again? Why had he torn down the blinders from the morning and that fateful night to be seen and acknowledged?

Shaking his head slightly, the fiend frowned darkly and sat looking at her empty chair, without truly seeing it. His mind ran in worrisome circles. Thoughts raced through his skull towards his sudden his actions, and why he wasn't sorry he'd done them.

~8~8~

A sigh forlornly slipped past Belle's lush lips as she stared down at the back yard in the gray evening from her second story room. Sparked longing flared through her twisted heart in some childish want. Her grip curled tighter over the warm cup of tea regretfully to stifle the urge of desire.

How she craved for the garden she'd tended all spring and summer. In her own little sanctuary she could order her thoughts wile she pruned and plucked and tended. If she wished to avoid thoughts whispered fro her heart or in her mid, she would plan little luxuries in the garden; a stone bird path, a feeder upon the maple tree, perhaps a gravel walk leading through the garden. But with the fall and winter came desolation from her place of solace leaving the thoughts she wished to hide free will to roam unchecked.

Even at the thought of her precious garden the first grayish white flakes of snow began to tumble from the sky. Wind whipped the first flakes into little swirls before they landed softly like velvet downy upon the gray earth.

Any other day, Belle would have been overjoyed for the first snow, but not today. Today she wished for the bees and butterflies upon the blooming buds, and the warmth of spring and all the smells. But such was only a wish, and in their new world wishes did not come true as often.

Abruptly, she cast the thoughts and desires away hearing the sound of her master cane. That too used to have been a soothing sound. Whenever she heard the thump of his cane she knew her protector was safe, and well. Now the thud made her body tense uneasily.

She felt him stoop at the door to the small room, but did not enter as though it were sacred ground. After all he'd done, she'd not deny him the simple right to enter her private room. The house wholly belonged to him after all.

"Why have you been so patient with me today?" She asked lowly and looked down into her steaming cup of light brown tea as though it would reply. Warm steam brushed her skin with soothing tendrils of vapors calming her nerves slightly with him so near.

Gold let a deep breath rattle past his thin lips as he slid to her side. His gaze stared down past the white lace curtain to the barren back yard bereft of life, leaving only wilted, crushed flowers of dead brown and a towering tree lacking its glorious green plumage.

"Because..." He began finally but paused once more, his voice stolen. Long moments passed betwixt them in a grave silence. A muscle twitched in his jaw as he forced the words out gently in her dare to be brave. "Because I think I might love you."


	17. Feelings

Terror sprang like a ravenous tiger upon the Dark One's frail courage the moment the confession passed the barrier of his thin lips. _Love_! The word burned through mind with a comets fiery radiance scorching any of his normal demeanor away to char and ash with his proclamation.

Icy sweat beaded upon the nape of his neck and dampened his shirt collar in dark perspiration. He fought the cowardly urge to limp away as fast as possible from her quiet presence. What good would it do if she witnessed the craven spinner beneath to see that he was ever the coward, even to face a slave girl with his longings of the heart?

Belle stared somberly out of the large, thick pane towards the brown now sparsely snow littered ground below. Bluish-white frost and fog began to creep upon the windows edge like the breath of fairies blowing upon the translucent pane.

Slowly, almost thoughtfully, a singular finger traced upon the misting glass. Her clever fingers made little swirling patterns upon the fog smeared window before the heat and cold that warred for dominance once more shrouded it over with opaque white. Anything, any action to keep from facing him, to even spare a demure glance out of her peripheral vision towards his wiry bulk was a grateful welcome.

Terror and exhilaration flared in her brighter than a thousand summer suns. The words that passed his lips sounded sweeter than even the finches in the garden before they spirited away to warmer climes.

"How…when…" To her endless frustration nothing came out right when she opened her mouth. Calmness and bravery was the key, she whispered encouragingly to herself and stared over.

A deep, calming breath filled her lungs then oozed from her lips she forced her nerves to halt their quelled tremors. "Why do you think you love me?" She formed every word carefully as though it were some delicate task requiring the utmost diligence. Her softly breathed words fell no more than a ghosts whisper upon the graveyard winds to his ears.

Rumpelstiltskin nearly apologized for his impromptu revelation. His mouth opened to ask her forgiveness for his previously brash, unthinking words, but forced the fear down in a gulp. Bravery had already won the day in his dark heart, would he be so foolish as to toss what courage sparked in his soul away?

Warmth sparkled in his whisky brown eyes as he sighed. Wrapping both his dark gloved hands about his golden cane, he offered a simple at-a-loss shrug. "I don't know precisely." He admitted lowly, forcing the wariness and tremulous cracking in his voice to break into his gentle timbre. "I believe my ardor for you began when I first saw you."

"You first saw me?" She echoed quizzically and searched the ripples spreading out in her cup. The lingering warmth in the depths of the brew bolstered her courage to query his meaning, though she wasn't at all certain she wanted to find out. His admittance still felt akin to a deluge of ice water poured over her.

The fiend's eyes narrowed slightly in thought as he stared at the frosted window. The wind and snow had picked up exponentially nearly making the ever darkening, outside world impossible to determine what lay past the grayish flakes. There was a warm, faraway look in his eyes like the kind old veterans possessed when thinking back on their youths rife with love and adventure.

He nodded slowly, his lips shrinking into one minuscule line upon his rough face. "The first time I saw you something inside of me…." His voice tapered off, unable to confess what pervaded his heart so fiercely it made his blood heat. Licking his dried lips with an even drier tongue, he opted to skip that particular part. "You were an indulgence, something I rarely entertain. I had no previous intention of taking you away from your home that night, but I saw you in your fathers war council, staring in the ugly face of demise at the hands of ogre. You stood so brave and beautiful and different that I just….I found myself wanting you more than anything I've ever known."

A rosy blush involuntarily flushed her pallid cheeks with a fiery, intense warmth. Her insides swelled with heat, but she dipped her head down once embarrassedly to conceal the surge of blood his words coaxed to her cheeks.

Did she ever dare admit, there had been a pull to him the first time she'd seen his odd gray-gold skin and how her heart leapt like a fleeing doe at his tittering laugh? "So you brought me because you found me…different?" She leaned her shoulder against the windows side and nursed her warm cup.

"Oh there was far more to what I felt than that. You actually laughed instead of bursting into an array of tears at my morbid quips and even tolerating me was a novelty." He shook his head as though steeping out of some intricate web of enchantment. Surly he had to be under some magicians thrall for him to relate the truth flitting in his heart as a caged bird desperate to be free and soar and proclaim his passion with all the fervor he could muster.

"You were kind and gentle and pleasant, something no one has ever been to me, Belle. And you, most of all, were without cause to be so wonderful. I enslaved you, I tossed you into a cage, I ripped the title of princess from your crowned head and threw you in a gutter. I most of all did not deserve your smiles and tender touch, but you gave them freely, without reservation." He heaved his scrawny shoulder once more in a light shrug, his eyes following the wayward spirals of the crystalline snow flakes upon the languidly howling wind. "I suppose the longer you stayed, the more I felt a fondness for you and then one day that fondness…mutated from what I felt when I first set eyes on you."

Belle brow crinkled slightly towards his words. Her mouth pulled to the side wonderingly as she forced herself to banish the waves of nervousness and face him.

Taking a step closer to her master, she addressed him curiously. "Mutated?" How could he term what he felt pulsing like embers in his heart something like a defect? Part of her felt like an abject moron merely regurgitating his heartfelt words.

"A correct word choice for such a strange anomaly." Sighed the Dark One whilst he turned so that they faced eye to eye. His glimmering orbs displayed a want, a desire, he knew out of reach. "I never assumed I would even remotely proclaim a fancy of love nor do I expect you to return such affection. I know I am a beast; the creautre that enslaved you forever."

"You are beautiful and bright and wonderful in every way and everyday I find myself growing more unlike what I know I am. I cannot stifle what my soul yearns; this...this…feeling that is so foreign swirling in my very blood. I know my emotions of love towards you are only a peculiar fancy I cannot subdue. I've been so long alone and you're always so kind I can't help but fancy you. " A small, tragic smile traced his lips as he lifted a calloused hand to her smooth face and stroked her cheek gently. "I know you must be appalled by my words. For me to have grown affections for you must make your stomach churn with revulsion. I beg you forgive a monster his lonely heart."

Emptiness sat in the pit of his shriveled heart. His dark soul felt hollowed out like an abandoned hovel, gutted and set aflame. Forcing back a painful frown, he stared upon her graceful features. Each line upon her porcelain face remained carefully hooded of all emotions.

For the first time in his life, he had laid bare his heart. For the first time since he was the Dark One, he knew he had someone he cared for at the very least; who was in reach, who he hadn't pushed away for power.

Unable to bear the thought of what reckonings scoured her brilliant mind, the fiend furled his wiry extremities away. The tips of his calloused fingers smoothed against her porcelain flesh longingly causing a shiver to wind up her spine before he slowly limped out, leaving Belle alone with her mind awhirl.

He loved her. The words reverberated sonorously through her head like the clang of a gong or a villages warning bell. Outside the wind wailed bitterly, but she did not hear over the peals of his words.

_He loved her. _

~8~8~

A rather dusty, gray suitcase sat upon Mr. Gold's messy king sized bed like some old, decrepit tombstone in the center of his bedroom.

Sharp business suits, fine shirts, and expensive ties sat discarded upon his bed or crammed haphazardly into the grime ridden suitcase. Shirt tails peaked out in every direction and cuff linked sleeves to jackets hung languorously over the sides of the carrier, forgotten.

The Dark One ran his thin, wiry fingers over a thick wad of crisp hundreds resting heavily in his hand like a knot of guilt and assurance. Smiling grimly at the suitable amount of funds, he stuffed the cash away safely and eagerly dove into another drawer for more clothing. Where he was going, he surmised grisly, he would need almost all his clothes.

"Are you going somewhere?" Belle's voice flitted in sudden softness about the room worriedly. The beauty leaned against the door lazily, but the tension crackling about her lithe figure told she was far from ease.

Her wild hair was kept back with the same ribbon used in the Dark Castle and she'd found a thick, white, too large sweater to that hung at her upper thighs. Anxiousness sparkled in her eyes as she stared at the messy state of his room and the furious packing.

Unexpected to hear her angel voice, the fiend jerked his head up sharply, his mouth unexpectedly going dry. He hadn't planned on her going down the hall to his room, nor even venture remotely near him. Why hadn't he closed the door? He cursed himself for the panic and unexplained emotions clouding his judgment like a thick fog.

Looking back to the rumpled sheets and blankets of his normally unmade bed and the dirty suitcase he'd dragged out from the basement, he forced not to flush like a silly child caught in some secretive act or running away.

A cough passed his lips politely as he forced his nerves to steady. "Yes. I own a cabin some miles outside the town proper in the forest. I'll be staying there for the present." He motioned to her slender form slightly before his hand fell limply to his side. "You may stay here, and use the money I gave you as you see fit. If you run out don't hesitate to contact me."

"I didn't know you owned a cabin." Belle replied mechanically for conversations sake and stood awkwardly at the door, unsure if he would allow her entry into his private chambers.

His was the only room she was not allowed to clean, and it showed. His large bed remained unmade, dust sat thick and fine upon the cheery wood furniture and pulled drapes, clothes were strewn in every conceivable direction upon the furniture and on the floor, and the room sat in a dismal darkness like a dragon's lair.

Gold managed a small smile that faltered. "Yes, it's a nice little spot by a lake. Hardly anyone goes there." Grabbing another shirt his mouth twisted slightly. A fierce intensity from his eyes gazed upon the fibers as though they would burst into flame. He could not bear to look at her, so beautiful, knowing she knows knew his inner most heart. "Is there something you need?"

She looked down to her slippers and fidgeted. "Um, may I come in?"

For a moment his mouth worked without a sound crossed his lips. Shaking his head to rid himself of the gawking surprise, he nodded stiffly and proffered his hand to the filthy room. "Of course. The place is a bit dirty but make yourself comfortable."

Padding over to his bed, the beauty tremulously sat upon the very precipice of the crumpled sheets and plucked a rumpled shirt from the open suitcase. A genuine smile of amusement crossed her lips laconically as she lifted one of his light crimson shirts out of the mess and began to fold it properly.

"A neat packer you are not." She observed with a humored tone. Her sunny grin dissipated lugubriously a moment later as though it never were as she stared hard at the now neatly folded shirt sitting upon her lap. Toying with the silver buttons she inquired lowly. "Why are you leavening?"

The magical monster paused from raiding the drawer. His eyes stared hard at the smooth striations of the lacquered cherry wood of the furniture, far to frightened to look upon her face. Would their be relief or sorrow to marble upon her delicate beauty at his explanation?

He turned his head slightly to the left, not looking directly at her. "I thought perhaps I should give us a bit of space after what I said."

"Oh…" She replied lamely. Her fingers ran the edge of the cold buttons, her mind troubled. Did he assume she wanted him away? Or was he punishing himself for speaking his heart and for a brief moment letting his love immerge above the fetid darkness of his soul?

"I don't want to put you out of your own home." Belle laughed half heartedly in nervous uncertainty. The paltry chuckle shriveled in her throat and drifted upon the slightly chill air hauntingly.

"It's no trouble."

"No really I do not wish to."

"Really it's not a big matter."

"You're the master, I wouldn't wish to relocate you for-"

"Belle!" The fiend roared her name to silence her. A spark of anger sent his emotions burning like a red ember upon a dried hay stack. The conflagration of emotions erupted heatedly, far too much to bear.

Slamming his fist into the dresser, the contents upon the top jangled and jumped in a clatter of perilous balance. He knew without even turning she sat trembling upon the bed. The master's tempers were never to be taken lightly.

Immediately he regretted snapping upon her so violently. The anger abated quicker than it surged through his veins, leaving a shameful numb feeling inside. Rough lines of unknown fury ironed out of his face as his shoulders slumped tiredly as though his emotions had wrung him dry leaving only hallowed fatigue.

"Forgive me." He uttered for the second time that day. "I'm letting my emotions run to wild, I fear."

The beauty said nothing in return towards his apology. The air crackled betwixt them with tension of their own heartfelt making. Emotions they'd so long suppressed and denied were not to be ignored any longer wreaking perilous hazards upon their fragile hearts.

Slowly, Belle slipped from the edge of the bed. Her feet barely made a sound upon the junk filled wood floor as she cautiously padded over to her master warily as though he were some huge, wounded beast.

Like he had done in the morning she knelt down beside him nervously, uncertain where her fluttering emotions would lead. Blood gushed in her ears as she determined to be brave. He had been brave those few hours ago when the gray day was conjuring into the snow filled night to speak his proclamation of love. Would she be less?

Placing a hand upon his slumped shoulder Belle laid a hand upon his cheek and made him stare into her cobalt eyes. Silence reigned between the pair in some lordly manner as neither wished to break the spell of their gazes or disrupt the loving quiet.

With a deep breath to encourage herself, the beauty leaned forward and planted her lips upon his in an innocent kiss.

Her lips still tasted of summer honey and magic, Rumpelstiltskin thought as her soft mouth entangled with his own. This time she was not drunk or intoxicated in any form. She kissed him in her full cognitive sensibilities.

A rumble thrummed from his throat regretfully as she disengaged their lips and pulled an away a mere fraction. Light and the wet of unshed tears sparkled in her bright cerulean depths.

Breath refused to enter his lungs while he stared upon her loveliness and knowing instinctively the look was for him; only for him, forever for him.

He closed his eyes to savor the kiss akin to a fine wine. "Why…?" Rumpelstiltskin stammered his voice a mere hoarse whisper. Without her lips against his own he felt himself dying for another taste of her. She was the water he thirsted for, the only thing that eased the eternal emptiness inside and drove the beast inside back to its squalid corner.

In no way did he deserve her, and yet, she gave him something so precious, a kiss, freely filled with all the emotion he felt charged through his wiry frame.

A tender hand pressed against his rough cheek making him open his eyes without a word. Twin lakes of the purest blue stared deeply into his orbs. "I have been so long trying to stifle these…things I feel. But when I found you that night lying in a pool of blood, I couldn't subdue the emotions I had quite so well like I had before. Drinking…drinking was my little shove of courage to finally act. I would never…could never do what I did that night sober. I didn't think I'd have even an inkling of courage to ever do such again and then you said…you might love me. And I found bravery to show you, you are not alone in your feelings."

She gripped his hand fervently, holding it close to her pounding heart as though his touch were her life line. "I do not wish you to leave, not unless you've changed your mind and perhaps…" Her voice grew low and sorrowful. Casting her eyes down she fought to keep the tears at bay. "Perhaps you have decided you do not love me the way…the way I think I might love you."

She loved him? Shock dashed upon his features as though she had struck him a blow to the head.

"Love me." His voice cracked with emotions bubbling over the edge of his soul. He stared upon her intently, his eyes wide with even more astonishment than when he discovered who the previous Dark One had been. "Belle, you love me? You can't." He protested in a strangled mutter. "I am you captor, your slaver, the beast that spirited you from kith and kin, the heirs of kings and queens and tossed you into a dungeon like an animal. You can't possibly love me."

"And yet I do." She replied solemnly simple.

Silence shrouded them like a thick, all consuming mist once more. Snow swirled and chafed upon the wailing wind that battered the outside realm and their slow breathing as the only noise reverberating about them.

"Belle-of-mine." There was a touching tenderness in the way he uttered his pet name for her. A thin half frown listed upon his rough features as he sighed tiredly. "This is a mess isn't it?"

"Indeed." She remarked dryly, a sigh of her own tumbling plaintively from her pink lips.

They were not meant to love one another. Monsters and princesses never fell in love. They were enemies as much as the moon was foe of the sun and fire was a nemesis of water.

He pressed his weathered brow to her flawless skin, daring to touch her so intimately and sighed dourly. "What are we to do? My mind is muddled with feelings battling with my thoughts that tell me to abandon these emotions."

The beauty sank pleasantly into the feel of his warm skin against hers. Contact with his flesh made her want to curl up in his arms and drift into quiet slumber. His meager touch seemed to calm her, though to say she knew anymore than he would have been a lie. They were both upon foreign ground, lost and wandering like to nomads without a place to rest. What tomorrow would bring for their ever evolving emotions seemed almost unreal to even fathom.

"First." The amber haired beauty allowed a faint smile to creep upon her lips. "The best place to begin is unpack. Leaving won't help matters."

At that, her grin jumped infectiously to the Dark One. He managed a wary chuckle and fingered the silken, bronze shirt still clutching in a vice in his grip. "I don't think I could leave in the snow anyway. The weather forecast calls for the snow to increase dramatically all through the night."

Her index finger ran the length of his stubble ridden jaw in tenderness of her own that surged so easily through her as though it was the most natural thing in the word. "That might be a good thing. If we're snowed in we can try to figure all this out." Belle remarked in her indomitable optimism.

Perhaps they could break through and make headway in their tumultuous feelings resounded inside them, or at least decide what recourse to take. Away from the rest of Storybrooke and most thankfully the harpy Regina would be a grateful welcome to sort through their situation rationally and delve into the brink where they tottered so precariously.

Standing and helping the beauty rise, Rumpelstiltskin nodded in agreement. A thought suddenly struck him causing his slight grin to wisp away as smoke upon the drafty currents.

Slowly, he placed a calloused hand upon her shoulder, squeezing slightly. Hurtful as what was about to tumbled from his lips he needed to say them; need to make sure she was not merely looking out for her health and how she could benefit from his weakness.

"Should these emotions become something you, or neither of us want I shall free you." Gold assured her gently, but refrained from the word 'promise'.

Fear spread through him like some malignant disease seeped into his heart. Of course he never planned to truly free her. No, she was his forever. To lure her true emotions into the light was something the darkness lurking inside the recesses of his heart prodded within him.

Shame welled high inside him even letting the words, pass his lips, but he could not take them back. The Dark One, the beast, the coward inside him had to know was she merely using his weakness for gain.

Belle stared at him astounded at the out he gave. Should she wish that emancipation was greater than freedom, that she did not love him as much as she claimed, then she was free to leave without repercussions. All she needed to do was recant her words of love and her shackles forged of an eternal promise would no longer fetter her.

"I gave my word of forever." She swallowed hard, the words tinged very faintly with regret as she shut the door to being no longer a slave. In that moment she'd passed up perhaps the brightest opportunity to be her own woman, free of bondage and slavery. For him.

Though his feelings were awkward and fledgling, love for his Belle surged a thousand fold in his chest. The blaze of his love doubled into an unquenchable inferno. There was no lingering doubt in his mind now; he loved her with all his soul.

How he wished to utter every affectionate gesture he felt upon the tip of his tongue to say he loved her more than all life itself.

"Belle." The monster spoke her name lowly filled with reverence and trepidation. Lifting a hand to her face once more he brushed a stray chestnut tendril of her mane away from her face. By heaven she was beautiful, more beautiful, lovelier than he ever deserved. "May I…kiss you?" He asked warily, unsure if he had so hastily overstepped the bounds of their tenuous…something.

Permission was something the Dark One was not used to entreating for. Darkness prowling his heart scolded him for acting like a poor, weak spinner once more, always afraid, but the joy sparkling in her eyes was nearly enough to drown away the snarling of evil haunting his thoughts.

The beauty stared lovingly at her master, her fingers thread into her free hand. "You may." She replied gently, setting his world aflame.

Outside in the gray, dismal town of Storybrooke, the snow whipped wind howled ferociously. Flakes of crystal frost and powered perspiration gathered in heavy banks upon the cold, slumbering earth. But inside the salmon pink home of Mr. Gold, they praised the inclement weather that kept them together to test the swirling waters of their…whatever they had.


	18. Progress

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing you wonderful people! Side note: What is in italics will be the dogs talking. _

**~8~8~**

Thick layers of the purest, pristine snow caked the entirety of Storybrooke. The blankets of flakes rose ankle deep by the time the grayish smear of light that was dawn climbed defeated over the naked treetops.

Crimson and dusky purple banners of morn tinted the icy firmament in their glorious streaked hues, before the ugly gray clouds, promising more flakes in the late day, began to amass once more.

What little golden sun managed to break through the thick, gray clods of clouds doused the abysmal hamlet with just enough light so that the snow twinkled like diamonds in their rays. The air was cold and clean with enough crisp bite to burn the lungs and bright a ruddy glow to any cheek.

Lady yipped excitedly, her dark brown fur flying in the cool breeze, as she bounded through the flawless alabaster snow. Dampness and frost clung to her under fur and the fringes of her ears, but the exertion of her running conjured the sticky flakes into runoff and melt that trailed behind only to freeze moments later.

The kind human, Belle, had opened the back door allowing her time to stretch her minuscule legs and run freely in the snow before the master awoke. While the tender beauty began breakfast for their small household, she would be free to play out in the frost or shuffle back inside at her leisure.

Though a place by the heater in the kitchen did seem appealing to the clever animal, there were matters of the heart to be met. Being in the utterly frigid morn allotted her time to pass words were her true love untroubled by the talk of humans or dog catchers unwittingly prying them away.

"_Bandit!" _Lady yapped out his name excitedly as she sprinted to the fence. To humans the sound was nothing more than a rambunctious dogs bark, but to the creatures of the land his name echoed in the quiet, ivory dawn.

Though that was not truly her loves name, Lady found such a moniker suited him nicely. He had stolen her heart after all.

Half a dirty paw dug under the once loose fence board where she once made entry those long months ago. Glistening snow disappeared quickly after a few paw-full's of furious digging revealing the brown, dry slumbering earth and a small hole indented into the hard land.

A gruff growl replied back, just as happily, but in a coarser timbre. _"Glad you survived the snow storm safe, my lady. Terrible weather we endured last night. Most all the humans are stashed inside today; even the pups aren't going to their teaching house."_

"_Of course I survived safely." _Lady retorted in a brisk sniff that was tinged with a hint of annoyance and worry directed to her love. "_The human's house is snug and warm. It's you I worry over, Bandit, not myself." _

The sinewy, gray furred canine sighed. Using his back paw, he scratched behind his ear in a sure sign of agitation. Though a redwood fence blocked their view, the tiny brown haired animal could tell her love leaned his fanged snout closer to the fence as though exasperated. _"Lady we've been over this a thousand times. I won't wear a collar, I won't be totted about like some prize, and above all, I won't be owned." _

"_It's not all that bad, my heart." _She defended staunchly, her hackles brisling a touch even at a faint implication of anything unsavory about her mistress. _"Belle is kind, the other is tolerant, the food's absolutely delicious, and there are tons of soft places to sleep. Besides, the woman is owned by the other one and they're getting along ravishingly now."_

"_Ravishingly?" _Bandit's growling voice possessed a hint of curiosity and sincere amusement. "_Tell me, what have your humans gotten themselves into lately?"_

His loves humans were a most interesting pair, Bandit admitted inwardly. First he'd staved offattackers trying to rob the one with the walking stick, then he'd led the female home unscathed that night she'd smelled so pungent with spirits his eyes had watered. They were a constant subject of discussion betwixt him and his Lady.

Cold shivers slightly crawled over Lady's spine as she rested upon her belly in the air soft snow to be closer to her love. The soft, yet utterly bone chilling wind whipped her fur playfully. _"Yesterday was unlike anything I've ever witnessed between them. They were odd and unsure all during the day, as though they were wary of the other, and then in the night, I found them doing that kissing thing humans do when they love some one." _

"_About time." _Bandit groused and rolled his enchanted ebony eyes. "_I could smell their feelings for one another for months now."_

The shaggy haired canine agreed inwardly. Her tiny paws dug at the small indentation of their spot as though one day the board would magically pry loose in a myriad of red splinters. "_When Belle let me out this morning she was practically glowing. She seemed as though a laden burden was relieved from her back. Whatever has happened between them is new and precious like a new born pup. Neither is certain of their emotions survival, and it's weak and strange to them. They are upon dangerous, tremulous ground; groping in the dark. I don't want their feelings to sputter and die. Right now they need a little push or I don't think they'll never brave the plunge."_

"_I see." _Bandit huffed sagaciously, his growl far more ponderous.

His coaly warm eyes, so human, stared intently at the redwood fence. Perhaps if he dredged up a plan he could kill two birds with one stone. On one paw he could test the waters of living in a dwelling with humans, since the days were bitter and cold with the icy breath of father winter pouring over the land. He could also please his lady love, by helping to bolster the new, teetering relationship of her owners.

The tip of his velvety, black nose wriggled under the fencepost with little difficulty. Steamy plumes of vapors jettisoned in the crisp, chill atmosphere and droplets formed upon his nose. "_Worry not, my lady, I think I have a plan."_

"_I knew you would, Bandit." _Lady remarked lovingly, her low thrummed growl almost akin to a human hum.

The mangy, half wolf, forced his body not to flinch as she pressed her warm nose against his. If only he had enough courage to reign in his wildness and live with her, then there would be no need to scrape under a fence for a simple touch.

Forcing a growl of happiness and regret not to rumble from his throat, the elusive, feral looking hound whispered conspiratorially. "_Here's what we'll do…" _

~8~8~

"The forecast calls for another 8 inches of snow by tonight." Rumpelstiltskin announced informatively as he limped vapidly into the bright living room.

The room was cascaded with light and warmth from the popping fire that smelled of fir wood, and the lamp light that banished the all consuming shadows back into the dankest of corners.

Much like her, he pondered lovingly, but tucked the thought away quicker than it came. She did combat the shadows of his heart and yet the thought terrified him.

Part of the fiend felt he shouldn't be so nervous in his own home with his Belle about, but the tremors thrumming inside begged to differ radically. She caused his heart to palpitate crazily like some mad leaping jester and made him a different man with her soft, indigo eyes and soft lips.

The beauty sat languorously upon the brown, suede couch. A few strands of her russet mane slipped from the ribbon binding her hair to frame her gorgeous features in tiny ringlets that glowed a brownish red in the fire light.

Some aged, bronze colored tome rested easily in her grip as she scoured the pages hungrily with her eyes, drinking in the fantastic tale.

Closing the chronicle, she tilted her head up and offered a nervous smile in reply. "Wonderful. I've always liked the snow. All of it is so fresh and clean, like breathing in a new, untouched world."

Gold could not dissuade himself from grinning at her little likes. Something as simple as new fallen snow pleased her. Other princesses would have adored rubies and pearls and rings of jasper, but she was content with un-treaded snow that frosted the earth.

Awkwardly, the magical fiend stood upon the threshold of the living room, unsure what action to take after his announcement and excuse to simple set his eyes upon her once more. Now that he was there what was the proper recourse for…whatever they were. His calloused digits thrummed against his cane warily as though something dastardly was about to commence.

Belle perched her head up from her book once more. Fiery scarlet tinted her cheeks in a way that soothed his quelled nervousness slightly.

"You don't have to stand there, like a set of armor you know." The beauty smiled teasingly. Patting the cushion beside her, her eyes glinted merrily, with promise and a tenuous bravery. "Why don't you come and sit with me?"

A sigh of scant ease towards her invitation tumbled from his lips in relief. The fiend made no motion to hide his pleasure around her for such things as an offer to join her upon the couch for a day of reading.

Such things were the core basis of their plan, of course.

Being close and mildly affectionate was their decided recourse they'd agreed upon in the night. They knew one another fairly well, but along with that, they dared to plunge into a whole new world and see where true affection would lead.

With a few short strides, the fiend was next to the plush couch. Dropping his cane to the side, but still close at hand, he hissed slightly in pain for the different position of his leg and eased on to the furniture.

The kind beauty gasped faintly, her eyes wide with realization and dread. "Forgive me, I forgot about you knee. I shouldn't have…."

"You forget, Belle-of-mine, even with this injury I am far from being made of glass." He grinned wryly causing a chuckle to burst from her lips.

On an impulse, Belle sidled close to his side 'til her head could rest upon his thin shoulder if she desired. Anxiety crackled off, her form but she dared toe the swirling waters that could potentially drown then should they flounder in the turbulent sea of love.

Both gasped faintly as she closed the small space between and she rested upon his shoulder and side.

Were they so novice and afraid of simple touches?

Taking heart from her courage, the Dark One wrapped his arm around her shoulder for stability. Her thick mane smelt of lavender and honey and what skin his calloused fingers touched was creamy and smooth like silk.

Gathered nervousness began to unloosen from the hard knot in his gut as they made a few shifts to be more comfortable. With being so close he could feel her every breath, smell her lovely perfume, and watch her fall into a world of wonderment as she scanned the black script upon the pages. This, Gold knew inwardly, was a something he liked immensely.

"Would you mind if I read aloud?" She twisted her head around and up slightly to stare at him quizzically.

He shrugged carelessly and forced himself not to stare owlishly at her beauty; beauty he now knew he was permitted to kiss and express his feelings for when courage overcame his overbearing cowardice. "Whatever you prefer."

Happily, the bueaty eagerly pried open the tome once more but from the beginning. Even as the first syllable began to flow from her lips he interrupted her. "You've no need to inconvenience yourself and start from the beginning." Rumpelstiltskin remarked in a mild stammer.

A smile twitched upon the very fringes of her lush mouth, her eyes sparkled like diamonds in merriment to his wary words. "You'd be lost if I started at the end of chapter four." Belle chuckled lowly. Bravely, she kissed the magical monster upon his stubble cheek lightly. His scruff tickled, making her grin widen as she disengaged from the simple, chaste kiss upon his burning flesh. "I don't mind." She assured and patted his thigh.

Kissing, as well was another affection they braved now and again. And though neither would admit their depths of feeling, they both enjoyed the activity more than they even let themselves believe.

Tilting down her head, Belle began to read in her gentle tones. "It was the best of times it was the worst of times…."

Hours passed between the pair as they sat upon the couch and delved into the tale. For each chapter they switched readers so that one listened whilst the other read. Though the monster had been averse to the suggestion, his Belle's insistence won him over before his weak protest gained any fortitude.

Part of him was joyous to make her happy with such a simple request and yet the darkness lingering in his soul whispered to him vilely. Folding to a supplication to read a book was only the beginning. Soon, so the evil within, hissed, she would manipulate him for other means.

A firm will made the Dark One stash the worrisome, abhorrent thoughts away, and soon the whispered were only fog swirling in the back of his head.

Afternoon reading passed in lazy repose like sleepy drunkard tottering away until evening was hinting the ever gray sky. The whole of Storybrooke seemed caught in some sleeping enchantment with no one to awaken their slumbering reprieve.

By the time the first hints of dusk painted upon the gray, both master and slave had fallen asleep side by side and the book forgotten. The red covered tome lay haphazardly spread open upon the floor with its pages upon the carpet and slightly crinkled.

Slow breathing emenated from the wary pair resting upon the couch. Belle lay comfortably against the Dark One with her head upon his shoulder and the fiend with his arm about her protectively as they to fell into the unwarranted doze the cold outside and the warmth within wrought with their tenuous balance.

Rebellious tendrils of her russet tresses wisped about his face teasingly like cobwebs, but the magical monster didn't stir in the slightest.

"_They both look more at ease while asleep." _Lady thought as she briskly strutted up to the couch. The only sound to alert any of her presence was the metal of her collar jangling with each step.

Their eyes were closed and both wore the faintest of grins upon their faces, and yet still even in quiet slumber with only a bit of whooshing wind wailing upon the earth, a strangeness forged of wariness and fear defaced them.

Together but still miles apart.

Determined to set that aright, even by a fraction to draw them closer, the tiny beast leapt upon the couch with a mission. Small paws patted the beauty eagerly. A small woof rumbled from Lady's throat just high enough not to rattle her mistress awake, but to pull her from slumber gently. The last thing she needed was a cranky, cross mistress.

Belle's sapphire eyes fluttered open after a few moments, her vision smeared with sleep and confusion. She rubbed her eyes tiredly, as though trying to figure out where she was.

Taking advantage of the sudden motion of wakefulness, the animal grabbed a bit of the beauty's sweater in her teeth and yanked slightly.

"_Come on, get up." _She growled lowly. Her silky brown eyes glinted with a fiery will as she forced herself to awaken the beuaty.

Belle yawned as sleep's powerful magic began to fade from the fogged annals of her mind. Sniffing sleepily she turned to Lady who sat upon the couch looking childishly innocent as though she hadn't been attempting furiously to awaken her. Her tail wagged furiously in excitement telling the beauty she probably wanted to go out.

Scratching the dog behind one of her floppy ears, the beauty grinned sleepily, her voice low. "Alright, I'll let you out."

Regretfully, Belle disentangled herself from her master's warm grip. Being so close and comfortable had been soothing and natural. His slow breathing had lulled her to sleep and the knowledge they were finally making progress had sent her mind into peaceful dreams of them and what could be.

The fiend didn't stir with her sudden movement and Belle did not awaken him. Slipping from off the couch she padded upon cats feet out the living room, following an excited Lady.

"Here you go, Lady." Belle announced with another yawn as she opened the back door. The world was still layered with fresh fallen snow that twinkled in the fading light not even the somber, gray clouds could mask. Each fence post had a tiny topping of snow and everything was iced in he powdery flakes like the topping of a weeding cake.

Icy wind whipped into the homestead of the Dark One making a shiver crawl up the beauty's spine and banish the last effect of sleep from her mind.

Truly beautiful, Belle admired despite the chill.

She nearly closed the door when something tugged at her pants legs. Belle couldn't help but grin at the tiny animal literally trying to tug her outside. The snow was already up to the little animals chin, but still she tried her best to lug her out.

"It seems you want someone to play with." Belle laughed good naturedly.

Lady yapped in reply and spun about in the snow eagerly until there was a circle of packed snow. Her tail was one flash of brown upon in contrast to the snow as she wagged happily.

The beauty patted the air with upraised hands in a surrendering manner. "Alright, just let me get my things. Some of us don't have fur over our entire bodies."

Within a few impatient minutes, the beauty was dressed warmly for the zero degree outside world. A thick sky blue jacket, scarf, boots, knit cap, and mittens all donned her form to shield away the cold and keep her heat.

Even so, every so often a fierce wind as though blown from the mouth of old man winter himself would cut through all the protection right to the very bone.

Belle trudged through the snow stoically, her boots crunching down layers as she searched the garden for Lady's rope toy. The thick length of rawhide rope had been forgotten and left out in the autumn, now Belle was regretting she hadn't tucked it away inside.

A snuffling, curious growl echoed abruptly from the fence gate, making Belle turn in curiosity. Lady hopped towards the iron barred portal and yipped once more as he paws rested on the door.

"Is your love out there, Lady? Does he want to come in?" Belle neared the door slowly, her voice muffled by the woolen scarf.

The small animal merely barked excitedly in reply, brining a smile to Belles mostly covered face. The beauty laughed light heartedly as she plowed through the snow to the unchained gate. Ever since she was free to traverse Storybrooke her master had not replaced the chains.

Fiddling with the iron lock, Belle muttered. "I'll be happy to allow Rum's rescuer entry. I'm sure the master won't mind."

In return, Lady yapped her consensus as Bandit bounded through like a gray streak of lean muscle and patched fur.

Belle could only laugh all the harder as she went in search of the toy once more. The pair of canines hopped and romped about happily in the deep snow to be together once more. There was a mischief to Bandit, the beauty knew, but one that brought smiles to faces, not frowns.

"Why, pray tell, are you traipsing about in the winter wonderful land?" Mr. Gold queried from the threshold of the back door suddenly.

Belle turned about to see the Dark One in the shaded darkness of the entrance. His arms were wrapped tightly about himself, and worry glinted like a conflagration in his deep chestnut orbs.

Had he been frightened when he stirred from slumber and she was nowhere to be seen? No, he wouldn't worry about trivial things like that, she chastised herself roundly. He was the Dark One.

Shaking the sweet, yet ridiculous thought from her mind, Belle smiled warmly. "Lady wished to go out and play and her gentleman caller decided to join in. I thought I could use the time to stretch my legs and get a bit of fresh air as well."

The Dark One snorted at her words, sending a plume of mist into the icy atmosphere. His gaze drifted to the animal briefly, but he suffered them in silence. Bandit had saved his life.

"Very well, freeze then if that's what you want." He replied jestingly and began to turn inside to the heat.

As if on cue, Lady veered away from her leaping companion and darted towards the businessman. Her bright pink tongue lolled out the side of her mouth and her pumping paws churned up the snow as she hurtled towards him in a brown streak.

Grabbing the edge of his pants leg she tugged determinedly as though he miniscule strength would yank him out. Bandit inched a tad closer, but kept his distance as though the home possessed some sort of monster.

"It seems Lady thinks you need a bit of fresh air as well." Belle laughed heartily. Her merriment wafted upon the chilled air like the last notes to a song through the Dark One's ears. "Come on, it'll be fun."

For a moment he nearly shook the pooch off and stomped back into the house, but the thought of sending more time with his Belle banished the will to simply slink about his home away like some wandering phantasm.

"Very well." He smiled back widely and managed to maneuver the dog away from assaulting the fringe of his pants. "I'll get my coat."

~8~8~

The last hour of daylight ticked by almost in paradise for Belle and Rumpelstiltskin. The four spent time walking the perimeter and even throwing snowballs, which, of course the Dark One came out victorious.

Only a smear of red aligning the underbelly of the clouds told the quartet it was nigh time to head in least they became caught in the next pummeling of snow.

Bandit of course was the exception. His frame constantly skulked to the door as though they would attempt to lock him in. No, he was not ready to be caged in a house yet, though it meant being near his love.

The hound shook the thick patches of snow from his mangy gray coat, sending flake spraying in every direction as he eyed the cracked open fence door just for safe measure and made certain the humans had their backs turned before beginning their plan. "_It's now or never."_ He yipped to his love.

"_Good." _Lady yapped in retort.

Snow tossed in every direction as Lady jumped into action. Digging slightly through a rather deep bank, her sharp teeth grabbed a part of a covered watering hose. The length of snake green resurfaced with one end before she spat it at and dug for the other half furiously.

Picking up the free end in his teeth, the wolfhound's jagged fangs flashed in the last lights as his love picked up the opposite end. The snow shifted from the hose revealing the long winding rope like tube crusted with flakes.

"_Let's hope we do this right." _He muttered to his love through the hose caught in his jaw.

"_There headed back in now." _Lady supplied, her voice growling with excitement. "_Here we go!" _She announced.

Both took on a fast pace as they ran through the deep banks trying to both be quick and stealthy in their coming.

Ice air burned like fire inside the Dark One with every laborious inhale. His lung felt aflame with the chill air prickling them, but he wouldn't have wished it away for all the realms.

Belle's face was a cheery red that mounted upon her check as he assumed his face looked scarlet as well. Exertion from running and dodged wads of packed snow had conjured their blood right to the cusp of skin in the freezing weather.

"How about a cup of hot chocolate when we get inside?" Belle suggested in a gasping laugh.

Gold wrapped his slightly damp, woolen trench coat jacket tighter about his person and nodded briskly to keep his teeth from chatter. "Sound delicious."

Though they both preferred tea, chocolate seemed a better solution to the creeping cold icing their bones.

Trudging through the deep snow, now all scattered and defaced with their play, the beauty smiled down at the glistening frond of ice as though she were tucking the memory away for all eternity. In fact, she stifled a giggle, she was.

"When we get inside I'll find something to dry Lady off with so she won't drip all over the floor." She kicked a mountainous lump of snow that toppled over.

Rumpelstiltskin stopped suddenly as though very literally frozen. His dark eyes scanned about them, not sisterly but in curiosity. "Speaking of which, where is that mutt and her l-"

He got no further as the pair leapt into action from behind. Snow churned in a blizzard through the air as the scheming duo raced around their legs in a frenzy. The ends of the forgotten garden house dangled out the side of their mouths as they ran in opposite circles creating a path through the snow and wrapped both master and slave like a spring may pole.

"What in the…" Belle wasn't certain where to look the pair moved so swiftly.

Gold attempted to disengage himself from the strange encounter right as Bandit made his last round.

"_Pull!" _The stray muttered to Lady.

As the pair of animals ran in opposite directions the hose expertly twined about Belle and Mr. Gold legs tightened.

On instinct, the Dark One wrapped his thin arms around his Belle as he went tumbling backwards and she sailed careening forward.

Puffs of icy flakes erupted into the whipping air as Rumpelstiltskin landed upon the soft blankets of snow in a loud grunt. For a moment, the only sound was the howling wind buffeting the fence and shaking the naked limbs of the trees.

A few dark amber strands escaped from her dark woolen cap curling against her rosy cheeks as she lay upon the Dark One. He was so close, nearly skin to skin. Belle felt her blood alight with an intensity she'd never felt before. Her finger twitched with the urge to rid him of his coat and jacket and all the things that impeded her from lying with him skin to skin as one.

Had not they been out in the cold and snow with another storm nearing she would have done just that.

Gold blinked owlishly at her, his mind just finally putting the pieces together on what had just transpired. Embers of long forgotten flames resurged in his belly with her staring down at him. Her eyes were bluer than the crisp winter sky, and they sparkled with a hungering intensity set only for him. An intensity, he was certain he was far from deserving, but there just the same. Was fate so kind as to set their lives together?

"I love you." The beauty uttered passionately as they lay in the soft down of snow.

For the first time there was no 'think' no 'perhaps' no uncertainty, just those three simple words that made his heart somersault.

They had been so uptight, so strict and formal and mechanic towards one another they'd never had a chance to plan for more surprises. Now, lying in the snow, subdued by two dogs they found that their love was not dictated upon a pre arranged path; that their tenderness could blossom even lying tied in the snow.

Even taken by surprise, their love flourished. Unexpected changes could occur at a whim and yet they'd love all the same.

"And I love you." He replied with warmth that dispelled the chill of biting wind and melting snow sopping their clothes.

Belle kissed him lightly upon his cold, red nose. "You know no matter what's to come between us if we remember that, we'll be okay."

"So long as we don't have dogs trying to push forward our …getting to know one another." He chuckled sending another plume of vapors into the air as he turned his head.

The two dogs sat looking at them in satisfaction, their human eyes beaming proudly. The tiny Lady, rested her head upon chest slightly as Bandit tucked his thin, fur patched head down and licked her nose tenderly in a job well done.

After such and affectionate gestures, the wild hound raced to the fence gate from whence he had came. Cleverly, he nosed open the portal and slipped out into the frigid coming night, as no more than a slinking, gray blot. He departed free and happy knowing he'd made his love pleased to an extent.

"How about that hot chocolate now?" Belle quiered in friendly mocking as she managed to scramble from atop him. The hose took a bit of time to untangle, but just enough for them to crave the warmth of something warm even more than before.

Rumpelstiltskin grinned wolfishly and displayed the one gold incisor in his mouth. "Among other things." He retorted lowly, his timbre an unusual playful growl.

Courage flared through him like a guttering flames upon seeing her eyes alight in delight and not revulsion to his words. Pulling her close, he planted a tender kiss upon her temple as they wandered into the house with Lady tramping behind in their footsteps.

"_Mission accomplished." _Lady yipped once to herself as she watched the pairs ease grow towards one another.

~8~8~

_A/N: Grab your pitchfork and torches people, Regina is on her way. _


	19. Apperences

_A/N: This chapter was extremely difficult to write. Mostly cause, final, and last papers due and junk so forgive me if it sucks. Anyway, thanks for reading and review! You all don't know how much you blow me away! :3_

**~8~8~**

"You're certain Mr. Gold hasn't been up to anything sinister?" Regina questioned disapprovingly in her deceptively smooth, low tone. Sharpened cunning, forged of years of scheming and plots, flecked her gray-green eyes turbulently mingled with a hint of annoyance at the oaf standing stupidly in front of her desk.

She knew the deputy was an inept fool, but that did not account for the trouble with the Dark One they had yet to produce.

Guy Stone twisted his brown cap between his rough, battle calloused hands nervously. Though her tone was quiet, the danger that flitted her timbre like an ominous spark of rage made him fight the deep seeded urge cringe. "Not to my knowledge, Madame Mayor. If he's done anything he's either hidden his tracks or everyone in town is too frightened to step forward." He added imploringly, hoping to garner a scrap of pity. "You know how tricky he is."

Abruptly, the mayor slammed her fist violently upon her aged desk. Antique ink wells, file holders, and fashionable stationary rattled nervously in their places as though shivering in the radiance of her pernicious fury.

Gaston flinched slightly, his body tensing as though preparing for a blow. But, like a deer caught in twin headlights of a tractor trailer, the deputy was far too dense to move or even run for the doors and never look back.

"Believe me; I indeed know how crafty Mr. Gold can be." The harpy ground through grit teeth though her anger was descending from its perilous peak.

In an eye blink, her normal composure washed over the unveiled rage leaving only a cool, frosty fury laying beneath the surface of her flawless, pallid flesh.

Leaning back in her plush seat she crossed her legs and formed a triangular pattern with her fingertips right under her chin. Long lashes hid her cruel, glassy eyes as she stared down at the polished grain of her desk as though the dark furniture held all the answers she sought.

"I will say this." The harpy began quietly thoughtful. "I can't possibly guess what's going through his morass of vile thoughts. Four armed robbers invade the dastardly Mr. Gold's home, steal a few valuable baubles, almost fatally wound him, and yet his main attacker and his accomplices remain on the lam?" She shook her head. "By all accounts the morgue should have had four new cadavers' weeks, nay, months ago."

No, she conceded troubled, for the four not to have been struck down with a blistering vengeance by the hard hearted, unforgiving, Rumpelstiltskin was indeed shocking.

"Christopher Locksley did what he was supposed to do, and more though stabbing Gold was an accident." Stone defended somberly, daring to speak up for the infamous criminal of Storybrooke.

Locksley may have been an expert thief, but he never condoned killing and only violence where necessary. Some wouldn't even term him a thief for the riches he plucked from the wealthiest of Storybrooke often ended up in the hands of the improvised or those who could not pay all their rent on time.

Regina flickered an irksome gaze the deputy's way, but bit back the ire in her smooth voice. "That's not the issue, fool. I certainly paid that thug to do is job." Came the snapping retort to the moron. "The question is why the monster Gold isn't taking the bait."

"Maybe he doesn't know who did it or where they're hiding." Guy shrugged simply. Such logic seemed simple to him. Christopher Locksley was an expert criminal in the small town. Mayhap even Gold couldn't hunt him down as easily as Regina believed.

The vile sorceress bit back a sharp laugh. A thin, ruby smile slithered upon her pale face at such an amusing thought. "No, no." She chuckled faintly and shook her raven hair once more. "Have no doubt Gold knows." Her mirth flitted away into a twisted sneer of hate and disgust. Leaning forward slightly, she turned her face away from the deputy and spat blandly like an unsavory taste. "He knows everything."

There was no way Mr. Gold could not possibly know who harmed him and where they were. But why hadn't he acted yet?

"Christopher is deep in hiding now that John Little has been apprehended by Graham." Stone supplied unnecessarily in attempts to gain some form of clemency from his employer for failing.

Regina merely nodded in reply, her eyes set in one place upon her desk ponderously. "That won't avail him much. Locksley could hide at the center of the earth and Gold would track him down."

Guy stared dumbfounded at the Madame Mayor for long moments before his brow crinkled curiously. "Well, I don't see what you called be for." Proclaimed Gaston; his voice faint with a hint of irritation."

Something of a devious grin pierced her lips abruptly like the smile of a wolf having stumbled upon an easy kill. "What I need you for, my dear deputy is to help me shall we say, 'poke-the-bull'.

Gaston's face warped in confusion. "We need a bull?"

Sighing with the last scrap of penitent patients she possessed, the harpy rubbed her temples in short round motions. "No, 'poke-the bull' means…." She fluttered her hand through the air in a way of surrender. "No, not worth explaining to you, simpleton. All you need to do is apprehend another of Christopher cronies to get Mr. Gold's attention."

"Who?" He scratched his head.

Regina toyed with the pens in their cup ponderously before replying. "Alan Dale." She ordered finally. "He has a penchant for drink; shouldn't be too difficult to track down. Make a big show of it, excessive violence, and trump a few charges to get the Mirrors attention so Sidney can make the story a front page deal." Another maliciously cruel smile curled upon her lips as she grabbed her purse. "In the mean time, I'll be paying our dear pawn shop owner a visit to see how he's fairing."

And, she remarked inwardly, to find out just why he wasn't doggedly pursuing the cretins who'd put him in intensive care.

"Poking the bull?" Guy stammered, his dulled senses finally catching on.

Sliding from out her desk, the witch patted the deputy upon the head as though her were a dog who learned a new trick. "Exactly." She laughed coolly causing a shiver to crawl down Guy Stone's spine. "I make the bull angry and you bring the target…."

~8~8~

"Even your house wasn't this dusty, Rum!" Belle exclaimed through a raucous sneeze.

Billows of gray dust plumed in every direction as she waded through the hoard of sellable junk and antiques stuffed haphazardly into one of the back rooms his pawn shop. Motes of gray and brown filtered through the air like fresh fallen snow only to land in different destinations from whence they were so rudely shifted.

Silver lay tarnished and gold layered over with so much grime it was hard to tell its hefty worth. Her master truly was a messy person, Belle laughed aloud between her rapid secession of sneezes.

Gold limped quickly to her side with a glass of water and a silken kerchief. The dust seemed to avoid him like an invisible barrier encased him, but the dirty beauty couldn't fathom how without magic. Perhaps even dust was frightened of him?

His chestnut eyes flickered with worry for her as he made sure she wasn't in dire peril from choking. "I warned you the place was wretchedly filthy." He remarked dryly, his voice laced with concern.

Wheezing, the beauty gulped down the water to clear her clogged passage of the attacking dirt and dust of ages. Once the dust had settled, and she could breathe without trouble, she smiled and wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve and smiled warmly. "I wouldn't trade being here with you for anything." She retorted lowly.

No longer was the beauty subjugated to stay fenced in the pink mansion asking permission to tread outside, but often visited the Dark One at his work bearing gifts of tea and lunch. Now, to Rumpelstiltskin endless enjoyment, she simply lingered about the entire day asking in ways she could aid.

Months had passed in the winter as their relationship blossomed whilst the frigid days came and went without relent of their ice and frost. Spring flourished in their hearts while the snow fell, and only grew more vibrant in the cool days when they were stuck inside. The irony, or so both secretly thought, fit their togetherness perfectly. To think something so warm and colorful as love blooming in the middle of a harsh, unforgiving winter.

Gold smiled widely as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and escorted her out the absolutely filthy back room. The red beads over the portal jangled and crinkled whilst they steeped into a less grimy area for fresh air away from undisturbed motes.

Kissing her upon her dust ridden hair, he chuckled lowly and stroked her face tenderly as though she were some astounding creature. How he reveled in touching the warmth of her smooth flesh, to feel her shiver pleasantly when he kissed her.

"Fresh air is a good trade, I think." Pulling her close, the fiend tenderly brushed a rebellious curl from her face and smiled lovingly. "I'd hate the thought of you being mauled by rabid dust bunnies."

"Your concern is touching, oh mighty Dark One." Belle parried jestingly in a small giggle though a hint of pink tinted her cheeks. Her cobalt orbs glittered happily simply to be with him.

Slowly, almost like she could not control her urge, she felt herself drawn to him like a pull of magic. Hunger to feel his lips pressed tightly against her own washed over her entirety to the point her body ached. Such passions were beginning to rise more and more betwixt them 'til she craved more than simple touches and conjoining of their mouths.

"Always for you, Belle-of-mine." His lips were a mere hairsbreadth from hers. Blood gushed in his veins simply with the expectation to attack her lush mouth with loving, searing kisses.

"Oh, how sweet." A cruel glib voice mocked childishly from the entryway to the private back rooms.

Master and slave disengaged at once as though they had been found red handed in some heinous crime. Both paled like ghosts long forgotten. Turning to the door simultaneously, their abrupt bashfulness and fear made matters worse to see a prim Regina standing at the threshold in amused ease.

An infuriating smirk smeared her pallid face as she stared upon the calmly. The harpy cocked her head to the left and sighed teasingly to wrench the cruel dagger of her taunt just a bit more. "You have gave her a pet name." She chuckled vilely, the words dripping like poison from her scarlet painted maw. "How putridly adorable." A plucked brow rose suddenly curious. "Which are you today, Mr. Gold, master or lover?"

In an instant the Dark One's face twisted from blanched shock to raging fury. Crackling anger just barely lurked under the surface of a trite politeness amazingly held in check. The beast inside of him reared its ugly head, wanting to lash out at the witch, but he forced it away from the forefront. Now was not the time to lose control, he knew.

"Regina." He spat her name like a black curse. "This is owner and employee area only, so if you please remove yourself to the front."

"Forgive me, I can see just how busy you two were. Perhaps you should have put your close sign up before someone walked in to hear you both delving into unscrupulous behavior." Regina barked a foul laugh that made Belle cringe at her grating tone.

Choked anger rose like hot bile in his throat, but the Dark One smiled faintly as though finding humor in the witches enraging words. Tuning to his Belle, he patted her shoulder gently. "Why don't you wait back here so I can see what she wants?" He suggested, his tone almost neutral.

Just by the very faint inflection in his voice, the beauty knew his request was far from asking. No, this was an order. "A-alright." Belle agreed. Hiding her sudden sadness he was still commanding her about as nothing more than a slave.

With a weak grin, the bobbed her head obediently and slipped back into the dust laden room.

"I must say, Mr. Gold. I never thought of you as that particular type of monster, but it seems you are putting your little slave girl to good use." Regina feigned her impressments as they slowly entered the main room of his shop.

Fury billowed in the businessman at such an insinuation, even more so that now he and his Belle were actually trying to figure out their emotions. But, on an afterthought, he cursed himself roundly; he had begun such an insuation with his bloody pride.

Tucking the thought far away the businessman grumbled. "What do you want, Regina?" With a twist of the wrist, he flipped the open sign to close for the moment to allot them privacy.

The cunning witch sighed pleasantly and clasped her hand together in front of her innocently. "Concern, Mr. Gold." She grinned widely, not even attempting to veil the lie. "You were stabbed, and I just wished to see how you were faring."

Anger throbbed like a sharp pang in Rumpelstiltskin's knee. Fury bubbling inside did not stem directly from Regina, but at her subtle reminder of the morons who'd tried to kill him. Months now he'd cast them out of his mind. Belle made any murderous thought of revenge and vengeance flee as shadow fled from the sun.

"I'm fairly well." His lips drew into a tight, dangerous smile.

Regina's teal eyes glowed tauntingly as she placed a hand to her black heart. "I'd thought you'd be petrified with those fiends still on the loose. They stabbed you and still remain uncaught."

That, she knew, would stab at his pride more than anything. The Dark One loathed to be reminded of failures and shortcomings.

"Not for long." He swore though tight lips. The muscles in his black gloved hand flexed like a murderous eagles talon waiting to rip into prey. When he got his hands around the throats of those who sought him ill, they would pay dearly; pay to the point they'd bargain for death as a kindness.

"What _has_ taken so long, old friend?" She tapped a singular finger to the side of her cheek thoughtfully. "Too much fun with your little slave girl, hmm? Too many romps under the sheets that you're simply to exhausted to pursue you're attackers?"

A dark growl wrenched from Gold's lips perilously. His chestnut eyes narrowed into twin slits directed only at Regina. "Unless you have something important to say, Madame Mayor, I'd thank you not to come back to my shop."

"Oh but I'm a paying customer." She protested mildly, her ruby crescent grin never fading.

Gold huffed at the blatant lie, his lips drawing into a tight line once more. "You haven't bought anything."

"You haven't sold me what I want." Regina retorted slyly.

In a hearts beat, the Dark One was upon her for the last barb prodded into his thick hide. The end of his cane keened through the air and stabbed towards the harpy like a missile. A dull thump briefly echoed about the shop before falling insipidly away in the dank air.

Pain shot through Regina's chest making the witch gasp for breath suddenly lost. Staggering backward she rammed her back against an ancient wardrobe, pinned.

The butt of his cane jammed at the center of her chest like some large morbid dart. There was not enough force behind it to break bone or skin, but definitely enough to leave a ghastly mottle blue and green bruise in its wake.

"Let's get one thing straight, Majesty." Rumpelstiltskin pressed the end of his ash wood cane a trifle harder into her chest, on the cusp of splintering bone. Every word dripped in hazardous promise from his fury skewed lips. "Belle is mine, now and forever. Don't ever ask again or you'll leave with more than a bruise." He promised darkly, his eyes alit with murderous intent.

The witch's thin fingers curled over the haft of the cane in attempts to relive some of the agony pressing against her chest. "Still treating her as a possession, Gold?" She stammered, unable to resist casting a last stone that conjured tenuous ripples into the placid lake of love master and slave had created.

"That's all she is to me." He snarled unthinkingly. All his life as the Dark One he hated having a weakness. Belle was most assuredly one, and now the queen knew to a greater extent.

Fury betrayed his love and his fierce possessiveness. By asking for Belle again, he'd given away just how deeply he had fallen for the beauty.

Despite the torment upon her chest, Regina gasped a little, crude laugh. "And what do you think of that, Miss French." She gargled breathlessly.

Immediately, Gold took the end of his cane away from Regina as though someone had struck him from behind. Swiveling around, he saw his Belle standing at the back door, looking on anxiously. She stood twisting her fingers as she always did when she was troubled.

Of course, he cursed himself darkly for the second time that day. His Belle was far too curious not to creep in and listen. Regina had been banking on it, he knew, and succeeded.

By the time he jerked around to face the deplorable harpy, she was already gone into the light of day and around witnesses leaving nothing by the raucous clang of the bell atop the door in her wake.

Forgetting her, he jerked back around to the beauty. "Belle, I didn't mean…" His words pattered to a halt as she turned away and disappeared into the back of the dusty establishment.

Cursing Regina in every possible way he knew how, the fiend limped hurriedly to pursue his love and explain his hastily uttered words.

With every thud of his cane, his mind whirled with what to say. Surely she knew his words were spoken in anger, so why was she upset?

Dust rose like a wave to greet him as he managed to pad his way to the filthiest of the back rooms. Unsure what to do, the fiend stood upon the threshold nervously.

Belle toiled quietly in the darkest corner of the room. His white kerchief, she'd wrapped about her nose and mouth like some outlaw, lay smeared with gray dust and brown grime. The dust wafted thickly about the air, almost chokingly to the magical monster.

Wary to go inside, he held his hands akimbo, pleadingly from the door. "I didn't mean what I said."

"But you said it just the same." The beauty retorted lowly, her voice muffled by the kerchief.

With a grunt she dislodged another forgotten trunk, sending another eruption of dust hurtling through the dank air. At least, Belle conceded, all the dust held back and dried the sting and press of tear wishing to brook from her features.

Being called a possession was not the part that bothered her. She knew implicitly, her price to pay from those days and days gone by in her father's war council. The agreement that she was 'nothing more' had bothered her.

After all those months getting to know one another, sharing kisses and touches, did he really think of her as nothing more; a distraction? Part of her knew such couldn't be true, but then again….

The fiend's first instinct was to blame Regina for his hastily spouted mess. Biting his tongue 'til he felt the first warmth of blood, Rumpelstiltskin mentally shook the thought away. True, the witch had goaded him, manipulated him even, but he should have possessed more control to deny her words.

"I wasn't thinking." He admitted softly. "I apologize, now come out here so we can talk about this." His voice creaked with a faint touch of pleading.

A sigh crossed the beauty's lips sorrowfully, nearly making the Dark One cringe. Melancholy swathed her like the billowing motes of dust as she rose gracefully and managed to slither her way out from the junky room.

Yanking the kerchief off her mouth, Belle sniffed and headed to a cleaner, fresher portion of the back rooms. "The only thing we need to talk about is appearances."

"Appearance?" Gold echoed in sudden confusion, his brow knit furtively.

"When Regina slipped in, we parted as though the other had the plague." She reminded him. "How do you see me past the walls of your shop and home, Rumpelstiltskin? How do you want other people to see us?" Belle tilted her head slightly to the side. Blue eyes stared at him with an intensity that made him want to shrink.

Both had known this hurdle was on their track, but neither had seen it coming so soon. Letting other people know they were together and no longer how they had first begun was a huge leap. Where did they stand in their appearances to one another and to the rest of Storybrooke?

"Am I a slave and a girl who gave up everything to keep her father in business that you just happen to love, or am I more to you?" She queried softly. An inch of trepidation resounded in her voice as though she was loath to know the answer.

Sighing, the Dark One ran a calloused hand through his dirty, brown hair, distraught. "You know I don't see you as such. I love you too much to think of you merely as a distraction."

"So you would be fine if word was out we were seeing one another romantically?" She pursued another inquiry, unable to allow the matter to lie. Regina, while horrid and irksome brought forth things that could no longer be ignored and swept under rugs to avoid.

He shrugged his shoulders helpless before they sunk. "I can't….Not yet." His face twisted ashamedly. "We simply cannot come forward to openly admitting that you and I…."

"Are in love." Belle concluded dourly, her eyes downcast to hide the agony in her cerulean orbs.

Her jaw stiffened stoically as she took a deep breath and forced to look him in the eyes for a moment. "I have grown used to many of your double edged answers, Rum. Rarely do you speak definitively, but when you do it's always truthful and touching." Her voice softened for a moment with a strange sorrowful smile. "Like when you say you love me." The softness vanished once more to dourness. "Regina, for all her vile ways, had a point. Which are you Rumpelstiltskin, my master or my lover?"

"Both." The Dark One gently replied after long minutes. He loved his Belle with every breath, every throbbing of his heart, and yet, coward that he was, he could not allot her true freedom. Part of him was frightened she would depart and take his heart with her.

After loosing Milah, a woman who despised him and he never loved, but still the mother of his precious boy, Baelfire whom he had given up for magic and power, she would never understand he could not bear to loose someone else.

Pain swelled in Belle's chest in a knot of agony that stung more than the blow Regina had taken. Behind closed doors he could love her, in the shadowed corners he could croon his devotion, away from the eyes that feared him he could pledge his heart, but not in the open; in the open he was no longer her lover, but master.

Hurt wrenched across her face at his persistent will to never give solid answers. There would be no definite truth, she knew. Not yet. Perhaps never. The magical monster was never willing to give up holding all the cards.

Taking a step forward he wrapped her in his arms, uncaring how much filth rubbed off on his suit. The beauty melted into his touch, though she felt anger for him radiating like scorching embers.

Rumpelstiltskin kissed the top of her head lovingly, his words soft and heartfelt. "One day, Belle-of-mine." His calculating eyes took on a faraway gaze as he imagined the coming 28 years. Bae would be found and all would be made aright. They would go to their world, and they would live once more in the Dark Castle, with more gold then they could ever spend, Belle as his lady, mother to his son, and they'd be happy.

"One day." He repeated gently.

In reply Belle untangled from the warmth of his arms. Without a word she grabbed her coat and walked out of the dirty pawnshop, leaving the Dark One alone with his indecision and fear to chose.


	20. Winter of Soul

A strained separation fell tenuously betwixt master and slave since Regina's unwanted nosing and unwitting observations. Doubt and anger slashed into their ripe, tender love and tore their affections to rags with their cruel fangs. The witch's ugly, mounded words shattered their fledgling, outspoken love like paper thin glass.

What once was an open display of their affection by a way of wary, warm kisses and loving touches drifted as smoke upon the wind. Few, hard fought smiles were shared now and again, but little else in the way of their blossoming romance which had once bloomed so prolifically.

Frost embittered the soul and killed the heat of their ardor and stunted the growth with fronds of ice. The warmth once shared dissipated into nothing but frigid embers blown into the dark corners of the soul.

No longer were curious, novel kisses shared together in front of the blazing hearth or anywhere they could spare a private, secluded moment, free to love as they willed. They displayed no sign of affection, or barely spoke beyond the normal asking of routine and important inquires, yet even such discussions were trite and exceedingly short.

Just like the cold that sluiced over the entirety of dismal Storybrooke, winter of the heart barreled down hard and unforgiving upon their fragile teetering love with no inkling of spring in sight.

Pearly soap bubbles and warm water sloshed haphazardly in the stainless steel sink as Belle took to clearing the morning dishes with a hearty vigor to mull through her troubled thoughts. Besides from washing the dishes in the morn and a few other miscellaneous, drably routine chores, her days were now boringly arduous with only Lady as her companion in the pink, lonely mansion.

Dipping the stained cast iron pan in the sink she mumbled distempered to herself as though cursing the filthy dishes. "Cook the master's breakfast, clean the master's home, run the master's errands." The beauty pursed her lush, pink lips angrily, plunging the soft sponge up and down with a murderous strength. "Hope the master feels like being more than that when no one is peeping through the windows!" She groused irksomely with every exhale of breath.

Despite her flared anger, in truth, Belle utterly missed his soft and rough kisses. She gravely mourned no longer watching the flames bicker in the fire place on the icy, satin nights and talking matters of the heart with her love as they stared at glowing red and orange embers of charred wood and cinders dwindle until they fell asleep.

Cravings for his calloused touch and reserved smiles gnawed mercilessly at her insides. Oh to be in his arms again, and know that he loved her without an inkling of doubt! To have his lips whisper his love directly into her ear, to rest her head upon his chest and know even for a brief moment in eternity, the world was right.

With a staunch will, the beauty forced the wants raging from the forefront of her mind. Not until he could decide to be one or the other, to not play upon the fence as a master or lover, could they once again hoist the mantle of their affections and display them how they both eagerly desired.

Some of their predicament was her fault, the beauty reckoned as she pulled her lips to one side of her mouth ponderously. Yes, perhaps if she simply forgave him and looked over his indecisive response of being master and lover, they would fall back into the comfortable niche they had formed and all would be well.

Determination swelled through her slender form at the sudden, distasteful and yet longing thought. Curling her hand tighter about the pliable blue sponge until soapy residue and waters sprang out, she shook her head fiercely. No, she couldn't, not for something so personal, so important to their tenuous relationship.

Sighing forlornly, the amber haired beauty slumped her shoulders as though a heavy burden was forced upon her back. Was love always so complicated?

Swiveling her head to the side she frowned deeply at the tiny brown dog resting upon the floor under the kitchen table. The pooches head rested on her front paws and her ears splayed out over the tile as she stared into space as though day dreaming.

"Why are men so impossible?" Belle asked the friendly animal disparagingly as though it could reply with some insightful, sagely wisdom. "Especially those you want to be near with all your soul, and yet there is a barrier that cannot be evaded?"

Lady perked her head up stared at her mistress in a way that nearly made the beauty crack a thin, wane grin. The tiny beats chocolaty, human eyes rolled in annoyance and let forth a slight whine as though to say. "Hunny, I know what you mean."

Belle laughed faintly as Lady placed her head back on her forepaws comfortably and continued to stare thoughtfully.

A look of exasperated anger upon her furry canine features marred the normal pleasantness, giving her a dour mood. She too was having men problems with Bandit, the feirce beast, to wild and free to live under the command of a human though living in the Dark One's home would mean being by his love.

Amusement slipped from the beauty quicker than the mirth that bubbled to the surface with Lady's reaction. Another anger and sorrow laced frown painted her lips as her mind revolved around her master and lover who refused to adhere to one or the other. Why could he not choose? Why couldn't he explain why he could not choose?

Too upset to do much with the scant number of chores placed in front of her, with such thought racing through her mind, the beauty irksomely pitched the blue sponge back into the sink, venting her frustration.

Water sprang up in a geyser that liberally sprinkled the heart torn Belle with lukewarm dish water. Another long suffering sigh slipped from her lips as she wiped away the quickly cooling liquid.

The warm waters felt as the tears she wished to runnel from her eyes, but she held them back. If she wept every time she and Rumpelstiltskin ran into difficult times she'd have never stopped weeping in the Dark Castle, or when they'd arrived in Storybrooke and freedom was still denied her.

When she sobbed the flaws and weakness became horribly pronounced where there was no fight to stay determined. She was vulnerable when she wept, and she abhorred being vulnerable.

If the Dark One came home to find her weeping all he would need do was utter his love and eternal devotion through his silver lined tongue and she'd forgive every grievance. All he would have to do was kiss away the tears and she would be willing putty to mold in his arms; oblivious to the perils still put in their path.

A quick rap upon the door rattled the beauty out her private encouragement to stay steadfast and wistfulness of having him near again. Shaking her head as though coming out of some sort of enchantment she wiped her hands on a dishrag and headed to the door.

Imagination flamed through her mind like a fever as the sound pounded through the home. Heart pounding like mad, she slowly slid her way to the door. Perhaps it was her Rumpelstiltskin come to plead forgiveness for his foolishness.

A small smile of disbelief pecked at her lips. Of course, such a thought was wistful, but the beauty enjoyed the image nonetheless.

Yanking open the door, her once flourishing imagination darkened and curled to black as a petal would wither against the heat of a guttering flame. Standing upon the threshold like some festering sore, Regina smile malicious, her ruby grin a vibrant contrast to her sheet pale skin.

"Come to see me again?" Belle inquired darkly, her tone tempered by steel of rage and hate. Normally she did not loathe anyone, but for Regina, every bit of diastase and disgust in her form welled towards the harpy.

Regina tipped the left side of her mouth into a cunning smirk. "Clever girl." She commended in an sickly chuckle that made Goosebumps break along the beauty's skin.

With a small, trite smile the witch tried to slither her way into the home, only to have Belle halt her. Delicate hands barred the way, dictating her immense dislike for the witch.

The beauty's eyes flashed with a dangerous wrath as she blocked the harpy entrance with her outstretched arm. Her words held every inch of malice as she growled. "I believe Rumpelstiltskin told you you were no longer welcome in his shop. The same stands true for his home."

"So bold." The vile harpy cocked a thinly plucked eyebrow in amusement rather than offence. "I'm only trying to help you dear."

Belle's flawless brow knit furtively. "Help? How is ruining what I and he have helping?"

At that, Regina openly glowed with ripples of hilarity. Tossing her head back, so that her short, silky ink hair fluttered in the cool wind, she barked a crisp taunting laugh that wafted upon the frigid air. "Ruining your so called love?" She wiped false tears of utter merriment from her eyes. "You actually believe he loves you?"

"I have no reason not to." The beauty replied evenly, holding back a stinging retort on the cusp of her lips. Jutting her chin high and proud she stared with an unblinking gaze of contempt.

"No reason?" The mayor echoed incredulously. Amused, she let out an improper snort. "Surely you haven't forgotten this is the beast that enslaved you and carries the ominous title of Dark One?"

Gritting her teeth, the beauty muttered through barely shifting lips. "I know his sins, and I know what monikers he is known. Unlike you, his darkness does not taint his entirety."

Infuriating cunning marred the former queen's features as she allowed the jab to slide gracefully away. "So if what you say or at least think is true he loves you?"

"Yes."

"Does he trust you in every way?"

"Yes."

"Really?" Thinned lips twisted into a Cheshire smirk. "Has he related his ulterior motive yet?"

An ashen pall abruptly fell over Belle's peach toned skin. Blood dissipated from her flesh as the words made her throat run dry. Out of all of Regina's inquiries, that was one which made her nearly physically reel.

Goaded by the look of unexpected horror Regina preened inwardly. "Ah, I can tell the thought has crossed your mind as well." The cruel witch leaned forward, only a hand span away from Belle's blanched features. "Tell me, Miss French, what are his motives? What does he have planned since he let me enact the curse and gave me the power to wield it? He trusts you so much." She mocked in a disgusted sneer. "Did he tell you his plan? We know he has one, we would be fools to think otherwise, and while I think you many things, I don't think you stupid. If you know his plans you should tell me and join me by thwarting his mad schemes."

Common sense hit Belle violently knocking away the dazedness which had fallen over her mind as fog fell over the land. Pushing the mesmerizing Regina back, the beauty slammed the door with all the weak force she could muster and made certain every lock was in its rightful slot.

Her ragged breathing and the crunch of Regina's shoes briskly tramping away through the drifts of soiled gray snow were the only sounds that that throbbed in the beauty's ear. Her heart pounded like a taut war drum as she leaned her head upon the smooth wood of the door.

Ulterior motive. Belle let the burning poison of the words slip through her mind slowly. Worried thoughts drifted through her mind in a whirlwind. She had not considered those dire contemplations for so long and now they seemed to crash through her head in a jarring crescendo that refused to relent.

Feeling the grain of the wood upon her forehead she tried to clench her eyes shut and focus.

What if her master did have ulterior motives? Motives to fall in love with her, motives to even keep her around for whatever plan he instituted.

Part of her felt relived Regina possessed the same inclination and feeling that Rumpelstiltskin did not simply give the harpy the spell to enjoy the scenery of new land and cause mischief. No, something else prompted their world's departures, and Regina was desperate to find out and in many ways so was Belle.

Often she wondered what his plans were in their new world. She had inquired too many times to count in their old realm, and now the thought resurged with another putrid audience with the harpy.

Pain briefly sparked upon Belle's mouth and she nibbled her bottom lips worriedly. Mayhap if she knew his plots she could understand why he was so wary to choose which relationship he desired with her. Maybe if she knew what he was up to she would know him better. Her cobalt orbs chanced a curious glance up the dank flight of stairs leading to the second floor of rooms. Perhaps there was only one true way to check his ulterior motives and see what her master and lover had plans for in their strange new land….

~8~8~

Darkness sat in dreary heaviness about Rumpelstiltskin's study casting every piece of furniture and wayward dusty trinket in some morbid shadow as Belle slithered inside.

The walls were painted in plain dark burgundy hues with a few diplomas in glass portraits hung upon the walls. There was only one wall free of any shelf or diploma and upon that sat tacked a wide, wondrous map of the four corners of the earth in splendid detail. A fireplace sat cold and forgotten, it's insides like a dark, empty heart, with not even the littering of gray ash to proclaim there had been a fire in the cold room in years despite the bone numbing chill.

Besides for the ominous walls that seemed to loom inward and steal any light, maple bookshelves stuffed with atlases and other dark colored tomes lined almost every wall, and a desk with the only leather chair in the room sat to the left.

Dreary, Belle decided promptly while she stifled a small shiver and gazed at the large, banner like map; the place was so exorbitantly dreary that it held the darkness almost like a covetous treasure.

Out of all the rooms in her master dusky pink manse, the beauty was absolutely denied to the right to enter and clean his study chamber. At first, her master had locked the dim room but after their trust began to shift and grow between them it was a rare occurrence he barricaded whatever was so important in the room.

A lash of guilt whipped cruelly at her bringing back streaks of bloodied shame to assail her conscience. She was abusing his trust, she knew imperatively, but they were supposed to be honest, and he was not giving her the entire story for explaining why he would not choose.

Tucking the guilt back into the farthest shaded recesses of her thoughts; Belle scurried fully into the dim, dour chamber. Her feet barley made a sound upon the carpet as she padded behind his desk for a quick search.

Kneeling down, she promised herself quietly if she didn't find anything in his large, oaken desk she'd depart with due haste.

For long moments her delicate hand hovered undecidedly over the intricacy carved brass handle for the first drawers. What horrors would she find in its contents? Hit lists? Names of people who yet to pay his always dear, high prices? People to blackmail? Whatever the drawers held of his business or plots was she privy to them?

Sighing quietly, Belle retracted her hand and rose gracefully, her mind filled with regret. No, she could not invaded his privacy. She could not only wish for his trust, but she had to uphold her own. Whatever secretes he was stashing away in the dim confines of his study, he would have to reveal them in his own way and time.

A small frown of shame marbled upon Belle's porcelain features as she made way to the exit. Her shoulder brushed against one of the book shelves just faintly, but more than enough to dislodge one sheet of yellowing parchment tucked in the center of a book detailing the town on the east coast.

The sound of paper crinkled through the air causing Belle to swivel about quickly. The yellowing paper just gently landed upon the carpet as the beauty turned, her nerves taunt for the knowledge of trespassing upon his only sanctuary.

"What's this?" Belle mumbled curiously to herself, her brow crinkling slightly.

Part of her whispered to simply leave it is, but she shook the notion away quicker than it came. If Rumpelstiltkin walked in and saw the paper upon the floor he'd know someone had been in his private study.

Besides, it was only a piece of paper.

Snatching the item off the floor, there was just enough light drifting through the drawn, thick drapes for her to make out something scribbled on the other side. With a quick twist she flipped the paper over to find the sketching of a shaggy haired boy.

The lad wore rags from their old world, dictating him probably a peasant or serf, but he looked spry and bright with his boyish charm and slightly round face. The picture was expertly traced upon the old, well worn parchment, with a few lines out of place.

Soft eyes and a faint smile dashed upon the boys face nearly made Belle want to grin as well. Those eyes and ghostly smiled reminded her of some one, but who….

"What, are you doing in here?" Rumpelstiltskin's accented voice demanded coolly dangerous, shearing Belle's thoughts of the pictures resemblance away with his frigid timbre.

Terror blazingly oozed through the caught beauty as though fire erupted upon her skin. Stifling a squeak, she turned about, with the drawing of the shaggy haired boy behind her back.

What was he doing home so soon, Belle pondered frantically, and then cursed herself for her utter stupidity. Of course it was time for the midday meal. Lunch time, of all days he'd decided to come back home for lunch after he had bent to his task of avoiding her.

Was his presence of all days merely a cruel trick of fate to finally squash what love they felt brewing in their hearts?

The master's face was an abhorrent mask of barely stifled fury etched into each line of his rough features. The grip upon his cane handle turned his knuckles into a corpse white, and his nostrils flared as though he were an angry beast about to pounce upon prey.

"Rum." She offered a nervous grin that twitched upon her lush lips. "I didn't think you'd be back so soon."

"What." He snarled pointedly as though she hadn't said a word. "Are you doing in here!"

His cane tapped murderously slow upon the wood floor as he limped in her direction like a stalking wolf. How his chestnut orbs blazed! Fury danced in every flash of his eyes.

Belle began imploringly, her tone quivering while she attempted to soothe his growing temper. "Now, Rum listen-"

"What are you doing in here!" He bellowed again, his voice rising furiously in the dank air. " Are you trying to weed out some dirty little secret? Spying on me? You gain my affection and then the keys to my locked knowledge?"

The frightened beauty shook her head frantically, her heart racing like a doe fleeing through the king's forest. She placed her hands out pleadingly. "Rumpelstiltskin, just listen to me I can explain."

Before another word could tumble from her lips, he moved at a flashing pace and snatched the paper from behind her hand. Placing the vellum to his face, what fury danced in his eyes grew to an uncontrollable inferno.

Bae's drawing; one of the rare artifacts he had to remember his son by! What else had she found concerning the persistent, zealous search for his boy? What mysteries had her traitorous hands unearthed while he stood blinded by her love and so called friendship!

Anger riled in him like a burning wave of fire. Of course her love was too good to be true! She was snooping in a room he left unlocked because he though her trustworthy; thought she cared for him enough not to betray him.

Inside the hollowness of his heart, the darkness laughed at him. How foolish he was to think any woman could find love with him. Use and betray was all they did! Milah had done so, and now Belle!

Bony talons cruelly wrenched at his pierced heart tearing away at the love he still felt for his Belle despite her underhanded action. Any other person would be dead, but not her. Even as trampled as their love was, his heart would never take such a precious life. Unable to bear the intense agony he felt hurtling down upon him, unable to take the torment of her betrayal; only wanting to make the pain dissipate into nothingness, unthinkingly, he struck out.

For a moment only action the Dark One registered was his hand swinging through the air. Before he could stop himself, before he could reign in his beastly darkness that demanded pain to be done to those who had hurt him, the deed was done.

In an instant the murderous rage whispered away as smoke upon the wind, leaving him feeling fatigued and horror stricken at himself.

His Belle lay crumpled on her side upon the floor like a broken and forgotten doll. A ruby stream of bright scarlet blood trickled from the left corner of her lush lips. Her heavenly, misty blue eyes stared at him in wide, numb struck terror.

Upon her cheek a bruise was already starting to dapple her flesh. A blazing reddish tint welled upon her porcelain flesh like a brand pressed against her skin.

What had he done?

Paled fingers tremulously rose to her cheek, a stark contrast to the bright vermilion blood. Her life essence stained profusely upon her fingertips. Shocked, she rubbed the pads of her fingers together as though not understanding what blood was.

He took a step forward, the words of regret tumbling from his mouth in a horrified stammer. "Oh Belle, forgive-"

Before he could utter another syllable, she was on her feet. Fear pushed strength into her shaky limbs making her barrel towards to the door.

Pushing past him, the beauty dashed from the room like a frightened mouse with a ravenous cat upon her heels. She lightly descended the flight of steps as she flew down the stairwell at a dangerous pace.

Lady, taken by surprise, yipped in curious alarm, but the beauty ignored her inquisitive bark.

Grabbing her thick coat, Belle slipped it on while making her way to the door as fast as possible.

The wind howled a mournful wail in the dreary day, letting the world know its icy despair as she jerked open the portal. Snowflakes swirled and scuffled inside the home aloft on the currents, only to melt instantly in the warmth. Each blast of frigid air was balm to her heated cheek, conjuring the lure of the freedom in the snow and cold into a desperate need.

Not looking back, the beauty rushed outside and raced down the deserted sidewalk with as much haste as her trembling knees could scrounge.

Inside, the Dark One watched the tiny black figure that was his Belle trudged through the snow. She wrapped her arms about her slender figure, as her shoulders shuddered violently in the frigid, cutting air filled with more snow.

She wasn't shaking because of the cold, he knew impartiality; she was crying.

Dual agony stabbed his heart cruelly with every beat in his chest. The daggers of emotions twisted their poisoned steel in his weeping aorta until the torment made him physically sick.

He's struck her and now she was gone.

His hand still tingled from where his flesh met hers, but the touch was like a thousand burning metal pins all sinking to the bone. "Foolish beast." He cursed aloud, his throat tight with shame and sorrow bubbling from his wounded heart. Curled hands clenched and unclenched as though he wished to grab anything to halt the never ending tumble his world seemed to take. "Foolish beast! You had her love, you had some one you cared for and who cared for you and you've thrown it away!"

Hot tears coursed down his cheeks as he slammed his fist upon the desk with all his might. His curled hand throbbed in pain, but the torment was nothing compared to the gnashing fangs devouring his soul with the knowledge of what he'd done.

"You had her love and you lost it!" He howled through the tears like a mortally wounded animal.

Wrath grew in his heart along with the pain of what he'd done to the only woman he'd truly cared for. Pernicious fury danced in his misting eyes as he swept everything from his desk. Trinkets, and stationery rattled to the floor like the broken mess of his heart wobbling in the gutted husk of his soul.

Sinking to the floor, his sobbing shrank to nothing but a piteous whimper of a cowardly spinner. "You've lost what she freely gave…. Foolish monster."

How he wished to pursue her, but he dared not. Not after what he had done. If she never came back again, eternal loneliness would be what he deserved and rightfully so.

Days ago they'd been sharing kisses and proclaiming their passionate love through whispers of the heart love, and now they seemed so far apart it was impossible to patch their affections.

Had their little flame of love finally been blown out?

Was it all falling apart so soon?

To Rumpelstiltskin, the answer sat plainly before him with the warm tingling in his hand proclaiming what he had done.


	21. Torn Apart

Cold prickled in needling lances upon Belle's fevered cheek as she raced through the deserted, forlorn streets of Storybrooke. Tendrils of her amber mane fluttered through the frigid breath of winter as though old man winter combed his gnarled, icy fingers through her hair.

The streets leading down rows of neatly built New England houses, all tucked away in their own cozy berths, sat barren and flanked with heaps of dirty snow. Only a few small paths upon the gray sidewalk were plowed through allowing the beauty to make a moderately fast pace through the thick, sleety blankets of precipitation and away from the master.

Where she was headed was a mystery even to herself, but anything seemed better than to be in the home with the furious Dark One prowling the dim halls. She shivered slightly even recalling the wild, beastly rage that flashed in his eyes and the stinging feel of his hand slamming into contact with her face.

Snow drifted bitingly upon the softly howling wind, chilling the beauty's tears into small crystalline droplets upon her glowing flesh. The icy bite was a stark contrast to the inner heat still lingering upon her cheek like embers from a warm hearth.

To Belle, the burn branded more painfully upon her mind more than the heat that agonizingly scorched her flawless flesh.

Why had he struck her, she pondered numbly, her mind unable to truly think clearly? Why had he reacted so to the worn picture of the boy?

Another fierce wind wailed relentlessly down upon her, making her body tremble violently. Her mass of curls danced like tassels in the wind and glued upon the new, warm tears streaking her cheeks. Numbed fingers wrapped her thick coat tightly about her body, but the wind cut through every fiber with its icy breath with ease.

Tilting her head down to the perilous, slushy walk before her, she contemplated where to go. A dark frown tugged upon her aching face making her wince. Where exactly could she go? Her first instinct was to dash with all haste to her papa's trailer, but even as the bright, relieved thought entered her mind, she cast it away like spoiled garbage.

If she sought her father for blessed sanctuary he would see the bruise and draw his own conclusion. While her father was not a stately man in their new realm, not even a favored and influential member of society, part of him, deep down in the curses sinister labarinth of webs still lay the heart of a proud king.

Without a doubt she knew he would go seeking Rumpelstiltskin's blood for vengeance or at the very least call Guy Stone to arrest the Dark One or worse. Knowing Guy he would be excitedly pleased for any excuse to arrest the fiend and use as much unnecessary force as possible.

Why shouldn't they? The angry, bitter thought whispered through her head vilely, snapping away the cold numb dwelling upon the corridors in her mind. Fire filled her thoughts with dreams of glorious vengeance towards the man that had harmed her.

Placing a hand to her heated cheek, Belle winced at the ever growing tenderness. Even without a mirror she knew an ugly bruise was already mottling her skin and from the corner of her mouth she could still taste the iron tang of her dried blood.

Why shouldn't he pay for what he'd done?

A sigh and a banner stream of opaque vapors escaped her pursed lips at the succulent morsel of revenge now laid before her. One call to Guy, and a subtle hint to hurt the fiend would be all the inclination her needed. Oh that would indeed make her master pay dearly!

Saddened, the beauty remorsefully shook her head, abandoning the thought like the first.

If her papa or Gaston ever found out what he did, they would not just seek to harm him, but go for his life and make him suffer a thousand fold. Ruby was not an option either since she would most assuredly call Sheriff Graham or go down to his dusky pink manse to raise Cain despite the consequences.

While she was angry, furious even towards her master, part of the beauty hesitated to see any ill fall upon him. She was not afraid of what would happen to her if she took action, but more of what would happen to him.

"This isn't right." A choking sob erupted from her lips, the sound echoing over the snow packed ground. Bleared eyes welled with tears afresh as she wallowed in misery and confusion and staggered through the wind and snow. Her heart felt sheared down the middle from anger to hesitation from seeking him harm. "I should be calling the police, I should be planning how I can never see him again, I should be going to Papa and telling him what happened…."

But she couldn't she knew invariably. She couldn't bear to see him hurt if she sought revenge.

One lost, lonely sea gull left behind in the push south shrieked luridly overhead pulling Belle from her dour reprieve and thoughts on what route to take. Looking up frigidly, she found herself at the waters edge of Storybrooke. Had she truly been lost in her reprieve of thought so long?

Frothy, white capped wave curled wild and restless upon the choppy harbor waters. Each alabaster tip of the surf that washed upon the shore or dashed upon the gray rocks, glistening with the icy sheen of salty brine

Where the beauty stood, every angry wave that erupted into mounds of white looked purer than the snow layering the surrounded, crescent land where surf and sand met snow. Every inch of water was a steely gray that reflected the skies leaden charcoal tint perfectly. The liquid expanse meandered from the womb like harbor seemed to drift into eternity upon the gray horizon.

With every crashing wave, the waters enveloped the ice and sleet hurtling from the sky into its folds and tossed the anchored boats like children's paper rafts in a gutter.

Iced salt and frigid surf assailed Belle's nostrils with it's slight sting, but in an odd way that calmed her. The rich scents of water and briny air made her think of home in her father's water side kingdom where the tradesmen flourished.

Out of all the things she missed from home when she sold herself to the Dark One, the fragrance of the sea and the salt driven air coiling about her senses was second only to her papa.

"Far too cold out here miss, for that little jacket." A voice from behind observed. "Wouldn't want you to lose any fingers or a nose to the freeze."

Not bothering to wipe her chilled, crystal tears from her face, Belle sniffed and remained staring at the gray waves as their endless plying away to the land. She curled her frozen fingers tighter about the thick wool of her coat and hunched further to keep warmth. "Your concern is touching, but I just want to be alone right now."

"Alone in the cold." The voice supplied blandly. Snow crunched under boots as the male stepped beside her. A half frown stretched upon his neatly trimmed beard as he dug his hands deep into his coat pockets and rocked back and forth sagely on his heels. Shrugging he continued. "Some people don't have any choice but to be cold and alone. You don't look like one of those people."

Turning her eyes slightly to the tall figure, Belle studied him curiously. He was average height with dark brown hair that swayed into the chill wind and a neatly trimmed brown beard with flecks of russet red. A tired, haphazard raggedness engulfed him as though he was high strung and hadn't slept in weeks. He looked only a bit older than her, but his face displayed an age well beyond his years. From his head to his boots he was garbed warmly in thick forest green clothing like a hunter.

Briefly he himself turned his piercing, dark gaze from the harbors, encompassing salty domain to face her. He had to do a double take at the painful sight.

A grimace lined his lips. "Ouch, that's quite a nasty bruise you have there."

"Oh…." Belle came to her wit's a moment later realizing all and sundry could see her injury. Bashfully she slapped her hand over the contusion. A hiss of pain squeezed from her lips as she felt the pain all over again for placing her hand upon the tender bruise so roughly.

"Who did this?" He asked evenly not showing surprise or anger. "Would you like me to call the sheriff?" The stranger spat the last word with a bit of contempt and loathing.

Belle shook her head fiercely, her eyes strafing back out to the rebellious sea. "No. No police." She decided finally.

The stranger's eyes hardened as though repulsed by her decision. "Ah, one of _those _things." His lips thinned.

They beauty stiffened at his accusatory tone, though the wind made her wish to shiver. "No, not one of those things. I am neither desperate, nor afraid of who did this." She retorted truthfully, her tone clipped.

Even after what her master had done, she felt no fear for him. In truth she had fled in confusion and the claws ripping her heart asunder, never in fear.

"Then explain if you will while you're out here nearly blue with frost instead of in warm sheriffs stations relating what happened to you?" He asked. His dusty boot kicked a small stone sending it tumbling down to the rushing waves clashing upon the rocky inlet. The stone fell with a peculiar plop and was seen no more upon the waters.

The beauty chewed her bottom lip anxious before replying; feeling her heart like the stone sinking into the icy, gray depths. "Because I don't want to see him hurt."

"But he hurt you." The stranger pointed out, causing Belle to wince as though struck once more.

Closing her eyes to block out the drab image of the steely surf raising their liquid, cold fingers up to desperately snatch at the land, she took a deep calming breath that ached her lungs. Calm, brittle as the feeling was, shrouded over, and prodded her courage back to life as ember could be coxed back to an inferno.

"And yet, I love him." A disparaged laugh tumbled from her mouth. "You must think me a foolish woman. Part of me would readily agree. Maybe I am foolish; maybe I am an idiot who does not have enough sense to see trouble right in front of her nose. But I am not afraid of him nor am I desperate. I love him still, though every bone in my body tells me we should not love. At this moment I could have half the town out for his blood, I should be out for his blood, but I love him and that's what makes this…." She gestured to the bruise weakly, her voice cracked sorrowfully. "Hurt the most."

What he did was inexcusable, but that did not mean her love had diminished. After she fell to the carpet of his study, she expected to feel burning hatred for him flare to life like same ancient primordial spirit. Part of her was waiting for the loathing and seething, in finally seeing what she was blinded to those months shared in mutual affection and yet she did not.

If loving him was a spell, its effects were a powerful one indeed for not even the bruise upon her face could quench the love for him.

Beside her the stranger draped in dappled forest green sighed as though slightly annoyed. "Well that's a pity. I was hoping your newly found hatred for Mr. Gold would help me avoid breaking any more major laws Miss French."

Belle swiveled to him curiously that he spoke her name. One of his hands held a picture of her. His thumb circled over her smiling face in the photograph as though he were pondering a deep, troubled thought.

"How do you know-?" She began, but halted suddenly.

A click echoed from his pocket where his other hand remained tucked away, making the words turn to ash in her throat. The outline of a pistol showed through his dark green jacket pointed at her body.

He smiled, halfway regretful through his thick beard and stuffed the photo away in his other pocket. "I've been watching you closely Miss French and I'm sorry it had to come to this. I can't live in hiding anymore, I need some leverage on Mr. Gold to get him off my back, and you are the perfect tool. I was hoping seeing as half your face is swathed in a contusion you'd be willing to aid me, but I see you actually do care for him." He barked a half insane, exhausted laugh. "I dare say you are the only woman who could care for a monster such as Gold."

"W-who are you?" Belle whispered warily, her eyes slowly shifting from his obsidian eyes to the concealed gun and back again. Blood chilled in her veins like the very waters below.

"Christopher Locksley." He introduced smugly with an impertinent bow. "Your employer's attacker."

Locksley… the name nagged at the edge of her mind like an unrepressed thought, still recalling their old realm. Locksley now where had she heard that…Hood! She drew the memories from the dusty annals of her mind. In the old world his name was Robin of Locksley.

When he forsook his title and rank many branded him Robin Hood. One of the only other princesses she knew, Miriam, or Mary Anne in their new world was rumored to be in love with the notorious noble turned outlaw.

In the other world he was known for his fair and honorable ways of thievery to help the poor, now his self righteousness seemed tainted almost deranged. There was a dark wildness to his eyes, as though he had become calloused to his crimes.

Snow drifted heavier upon the wind until the sky was crowded with flakes. The criminal squinted against the crystal pieces melting upon his bearded face and turned his head up to the sky.

"Come on now. Don't make this difficult. I'd hate to harm you, seeing the day you've had and all." He jerked the gun to an unmarked car waiting at the end of the road. "I won't hurt you so long as things go as planned. You have my w-"

Before he could utter another word, another ragged breath, a streak shot out from behind like a flash of gray lightening. Fifty pounds of lanky, snarling fury assaulted the criminal with sharp claws and jagged fangs that bit and scratched at the thick padding of winter wear like sheep's wool.

Yellowed fangs tore and bit into the thick jacket with a rabid vigor to seek the soft flesh beneath to snap in his jaws. Claws like sharpened ice flashed in the paltry sun that broke through the gauzy veil of leaden clouds. His growls rang murderous through the air as he attacked Belle's would be kidnapper.

Bandit! Belle could have cheered the ferocious beast, but raced with all speed back towards the road. Snow tossed upward in every direction as she galloped to the proper highway. Her breath came in large, gray puffs telling the tale of her laborious exertion through the drifts.

She lost her balance once and fell upon the soft snow, but jumped to her feet and plowed onward through the banks of frost and flakes. Hope surged in her heart like the warmth of spring itself as she trudged through with every bit of strength her body contained. If she could make it to the street, if she could but just make it to one home she would be safe.

Behind her she dared not look back at the scuffle between man and beast. The snapping maw of Bandit and the cries of her abductor were already enough to fuel her never ceasing imagination. Bandit could be ferocious when the mood took him, his ancestry with wolves springing to life at a moment s notice.

Abruptly a solitary gun shot rang through the air stilling her thoughts with an un-calming quite.

Flocks of snow birds tittered in alarm at the noise. Their downy plumed wings flapped through the air as they fled.

An echo lingered though the air as though the world held the noise close to its breast. The sound seemed louder than the ringing of a church bell on a quiet evening. Snow crunched loudly as Belle came to a halt. Lady's love had saved her, she had to at least turn and see what had occurred.

A gasp slipped from her lips as she saw only a livid Locksley racing in her direction, and quickly closing the gap. Even if she hadn't looked back he would have caught her.

Blood splotched the frozen, blanketed ground and melted the snow with every step the criminal took, but Bandit was no where to be found.

Only a few claw scrambling marks were visible in the snow right upon the precipice of the edge where the waters crashed.

He must have fallen into the water when the shot rang out, Belle concluded dismally, her heart wrenching at the loss of the brave beast.

"Not a step further or a shoot." Hood warned in a curse and aimed the gun directly at her head.

Even from the oh so brief clash, blood matted his dark brown hair and dripped from the ends of his fluttering locks in a steady stream. A patch of his beard was torn out by fangs and one of his coat pockets where he kept her picture was ripped showing a menagerie of horrid gashes and deep claw marks in areas of angry red, torn skin upon his side.

"You killed him." She sobbed in a sharp gasp, her eyes glimmering with tears, not for herself, but for Lady and her lost love.

Christopher growled and clamped his hand violently about her upper arm. "He attacked me and you nearly escaped." Jerking his head to the vehicle, his tone was laced with murder. "Now get in the car before I toss another carcass into the sea…."

~8~8~

Rumpelstiltskin frown grimly as he hefted the large, near to bursting, packet of bills in his calloused grip and stared at the other four hefty bricks of cash and one document upon the kitchen table all in a neat pile.

In total, the sum amounted to 50,000 dollars, the deed to Moe French's shop and an eternal promise he rehearsed over and over in his head to swear she would never be in need of income or anything if he could so help it.

Before him in their plain yellow packets the money and title all looked so baseless and pointless and paltry, which it was in every insufficient way. He could cut off his own hand and still his actions would not be mended, but at least giving her a bit of money to help her upon her way would help a little, he figured dourly.

The Dark One was under no illusion what little they had once lovingly shared was over. After the inexcusable actions he'd wrought he felt lucky if she'd even come back for her things so he could give her his cowardly pittance.

While a portion of his soul begged to go out into the snow buried town of Storybrooke and look for her, to see if she was safe, and give her the money, part of him sincerely wished she would never return to his forlorn home or want to see him again.

Perhaps his wish was selfish but he could not bear the thought of seeing the blackish purple bruise he induced upon her porcelain flesh; knowing his wrath had gotten the better of him even to his darling Belle. If he could harm her then truly, truly, he was a monster all and entirely.

If she did not show, he would give the money and the note for her eyes only to her father, and do his best never to run into Belle for 28 years. A weak punishment compared to the pain he should have been subject, he knew, but one that he rightly deserved. To never feel her lips again, to never see hear her lovely laugh or seek her smile, would be torment that he would inflict upon himself daily. He had to be held impugned for his actions, but there seemed no other recourse beside for going to the sheriff himself and admitting his crime.

Sighing disgracefully, the fiend struggled to get up from the chair and finish the arrangements that would at last free Belle from his thrall.

Abruptly, a weak whining and scratching at the front door snatched him partially out of his dire melancholy.

Lady, who lay depressed and worried at the Dark One's feet leapt up as though the piteous whine was as familiar to her as a voice was to a human. A small, alarmed bark rankled from her throat as she scrambled to the door.

Following the now softly whining Lady who nosed at the threshold as though she could opened it, he eased the portal ajar.

The fiends muscles knotted in tense cord, prepared for any tricks. His eyes widened in abject surprise to see the mangy, bedraggled gray fur of Bandit.

The poor beast shivered violently as the stench of salt sea water dripped from his patched hide. His left back leg was slightly above the ground in testament to the pain he endured. An oozing gash where a bullet had deeply grazed his right shoulder dripped vibrant blood upon the dirty snow.

Bandit's marble black eyes glittered pain and alarm any human could read. In his tight jaws a scrap of some photo and tattered remnants of some dark green fabric lay trapped in his fangs.

Kneeling down, the fiend ran his calloused fingers upon the pulp, half ruined already torn photograph. Through the blurred, ruined state of the picture he could identify Belle's warm, smiling face.

Fear tightened in his gut as she lay the ripped picture aside and examined the piece of sopping material. The cloth was drenched in water, but the dark forest green was not to be diminished by the fronds of frost beginning to crinkle upon it.

Worry beetled his crinkled brow as he began to surmise, to his frightfully spiraling horror, what had occurred. Bandit wouldn't have brought him the cloth unless…

"Someone has Belle." He murmured dazedly, his mind growing cold with terror and desperation. To think, some one had his Belle sent icy shivers mercilessly trailing down and down his spine far worse then the cold ever could.

Perhaps it was simply Rumpelstiltskin's cunning imagination but the wounded hound seemed to nod faintly in acquiescence.


	22. Sacrifice

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! :3_

**~8~8~**

"I don't understand, why do you think kidnapping me will help you get untangled from your predicament?" Belle stammered curiously as the pair entered a run down shack nestled in the endless stretch of dreary woodland surrounding Storybrooke. Her teeth chattered furiously from the cold that whispered viciously through her paltry black jacket and cut to the bone with ease.

Four old sleeping bags, heaped with a colorful menagerie of thick blankets, to combat the cold that seeped in from the warped wood and broken planks of timber, littered the floor like abandoned nests. A window, spattered and swathed with mold and dirt, sat carved in the back wall with a shard missing from the right bottom pane in a jagged angle. An antiquated, potbelly, cast iron wood stove sat covered in blackened, ashy grime with a few dented thermoses and tin cups scattered at its curved feet. The floor was trashed liberally with crumpled, discarded papers, old flashlights and other refuse, photos, and hasty plans drawn down and abandoned.

To Belle, the entire cabin obviously had held the quartet of the famous outlaws who terrorized the wealthiest of Storybrooke. Now all that remained unhampered by the law was the half crazed Robin Hood poking the cold steel of a pistol into her back.

Prodding Belle further into the drafty, dismal shack the criminal coughed and began kicking a few rather large pieces of junk out of the way least she find something to use to her advantage.

A small laugh skirted his lips as he lazily flicked his eyes in her direction. "The answer is quite simple, Miss French." Directing her to a lone, modestly lit corner where he could keep an eye on her, he paused and heaved out a bronze hued steamer chest hidden under a few heavy coats. "Mr. Gold is quite smitten with you."

"Smitten?" The captured beauty repeated incredulously. Wrapping her small arms around her once more, her eyes diligently searched for a way out whilst she kept her captor talking. "If that's the angle you are attempting to manipulate, then you are sorrowfully mistaken." Her voice dropped barely above a deathly whisper. "He doesn't love me."

How could he after what he'd done?

"Ah, but not thirty minutes ago you proclaimed you loved him." Christopher chided mockingly.

Keeping the beauty in the corner of his vision he knelt down and began to rummage through the chest. Survival equipment, disguises, thieves' tools, false identifications and other useful trinkets filled the chest he methodically scavenged.

Pain, forged in the bright tormenting flames of a shattered heart, alit in her chest once more. Agony wrenched her heart in a vice and squeezed 'til she felt the cold hands as though they were real. "That doesn't mean he loves me." She retorted brokenly.

"Oh he loves you." Locksley assured her with slight nod. Taking out a coil of rough rope and laying it by his side he nodded grisly and dove back into the chest. "I have reliable information that says he does." He huffed abruptly at some morbid inner thought. "I was also told you'd be willing to help me without having to resort to abduction, but that didn't pan out as promised….like most of the things I do…."

As he continued to search deeper into the chest, Belle's indigo depths settled on a glass, olden day lantern filled with kerosene. The item was half covered by an old, moth worn blanket, which escaped the criminal notice.

A thrill raced down her spine as she darted a quick glance to the scrounging Hood and the large, forgotten lantern. If she could be stealthy enough she could snatch up the old light source and bash the glass across his head before he could even rise to point the gun in her direction. Licking her chapped lips, the beauty agonizingly inched towards the discarded lantern like a cat preying upon an oblivious mouse.

Desperate to keep him occupied, she managed a curious tone in her shaky, excited timbre. "Who…who gave you such information?"

"My employer." Locksley informed his captive in a slight grunting growl and threw a folded tarp out of the monolith trunk. Shaking his head with disdain he gritted his teeth tightly until the muscles worked in his jaw. "They promised this would be an easy job; that Gold wouldn't be seeking my blood! Oh then they said you'd be hurt and when you were that was our chance to move into action! She said I'd be a hero and not the criminal!"

Revelation sloughed through the beauty's veins like the icy streams of air wailing upon the bucolic shack. She paused in half a step as confusion washed over her. Perceptiveness had always been her way and even captured she could not subdue her insight. "Regina hired you didn't she?"

Robin retorted with a stoic, stony silence that seemed colder than the gnashing wind pleading outside the door. His strong body radiated panic and fear that engulfed his entire being with the slowly encroaching madness of lack of sleep and always watching over his shoulder to stay out of the laws arms and the murders claws of Mr. Gold.

For a brief instance, Belle discarded her plot to escape in favor of her new found knowledge swirling through her mind. If Regina truly did plot everything then how had she known that Rum would hurt her before hand and advise Hood to stay on the look out for her?

"Why did she plan this? What does she want?" The worried beauty asked. With a determined will she shook away the shock from the forefront of her head and rekindled her plan for freedom. Craftily avoiding the heaped litter, the beauty crept ever nearer to the lantern. She kept her eyes upon her half mad captor at all times lest he gazed out at her through the corner of his eyes.

"The exact same thing we all want." A hunting bow arose from the depths of the chest attached with a quiver full of arrows. "To see justice done, to see evil stamped to darkened embers and let the weak thrive from being under the heel of their debtors."

Softly, ever so softly, Belle began to lean down to the littered floor. Sweat slicked her clever fingers as she stretched and sought the rusted wire handle upon the lantern. Desperate, she kept him talking to quell any suspicion he might have. "And you think Regina is a lesser evil than Mr. Gold?"

"That monster you claim to love has done more harm than our mayor." Locksley countered in a hateful snap. "People who live pay check to paycheck are subject to his will. No one in town dares defy him for all know someone who is in his murky debt or lives in a business property he owns. He robs from the mouths of the hungry when he has more than he will ever need."

At that, there was a inking of truth, Belle knew very well. While Regina was a cruel, evil witch both literally and figuratively, she ran the town properly and in most cases treated her citizens fairly. Gold on the other hand, was sinister in his dealings and wouldn't hesitant to squeeze the last nickel out of a struggling business.

Taking one last look at her captor, Belle focused her gaze on the discarded lantern; the possible key to her emancipation. "What are you going to do to him?" She inquired breathlessly. Excitement filled her blood like liquid fire with the lantern so close! Her trembling fingers uneasily wrapped tightly about the thin iron handle.

Before she could lift the lantern the cool steel of his gun pressed lightly against her temple. "The same thing that will happen to you if you don't drop the lantern." He stated evenly, his tone only holding a hint of threat.

Fear instilled into the beauty coursing through her trembling body. Survival instincts shivered through her like the creeping cold upon her bones. Dropping the lantern she raised both hands into the air warily, her form tensed to feel pain.

A cocky smirk etched his haphazard, bearded face. "I've enjoyed our little chat, but now I must prepare to welcome your boy friend."

"H…he won't come…he won't find me; you're wasting your time." Belle stammered in protest as the criminal escorted her to a rickety chair. Rumpelstiltskin would know immediately whatever Robin planned would be a trap. Only disaster could be reaped if he so chose to attend.

Hood barked a crude, maniacal laugh and forced her into the seat. The rotted legs wobbled tremulously even under her weight but miraculously remained in place. Uncoiling the rough, sea faring rope he untwisted the tan cords to the proper extension to bind her. "I have you. He will come." Abruptly, his voice dropped, saddened as though memories whispered through his head. "I know I would. Love makes people do unwise things Miss French….Most unwise."

Shaking the dour thought away, Locksley neatly, but not uncomfortably bound the beauty to the chair. With a last touch he tore a dirty shirt and tied the scrap about her mouth to keep her from speaking.

Smiling sadly, the criminal pulled a worn cell phone out of his pocket and tapped a few keys. Never taking his eyes off the brave beauty who glared fiercely at her captor, his smile widened to something crazed and feral like a rabid wolf that spotted vulnerable prey.

As the ringing stopped, he couldn't help but keep a hint of malevolence in his tone. "Hello Mr. Gold…."

~8~8~

Darkness fell drearily upon the large, leaf barren forest of Storybrooke. The skeleton trees bereft of their vibrant persons swayed sorrowfully and creaked in the chilling cold wind which carried the downy of crystalline snow.

Light from the bright beams on Mr. Gold's sleek car cast eerie shadows upon the forlorn, rarely used stretch of highway meandering before him and the slumbering, plaintive trees looming over the asphalt akin to bony fingers arisen from graves. The dark mingled with the snow made the world lose color till every element seemed gray and bleak of life.

Window wipers slapped out an off beat tempo as he raced through the ice and sleet, headless of the perilous conditions under the tires. The passenger seat was occupied with a map detailing Storybrooke, his black cell phone, and a gun that sat loaded and at the ready.

Locksley had his Belle. At the terrifying and infuriating thought, the fiend violently slammed his fist against the steering wheel. Why had he targeted Belle? Why had he seen fit to capture her?

When he got the call, his blood stilled to ice to hear the voice of one of his attackers. Locksley explained the details and even sent a picture of a tied up and gagged Belle to his phone to confirm her capture. Now the Dark One raced at a devilish speed to rescue the woman he loved; the woman he's so hurt.

The car leapt a fraction as the snow lined gravel suddenly went from asphalt to sleet and muck of a dirt road. Ice, snow, and frozen mud crunched hazardously under his tires. One wrong move and he would be stuck in a storm without a way to rescue his Belle or a way to find sufficient shelter from the chilling temperature.

With a deep breath, Rumpelstiltskin forced himself to take his time along the dark stretch of perilous roadway. Locksley wouldn't kill her; he whispered the false promise to himself to bolster his flagging courage.

Unexpectedly, a grimace stole darkly upon his rough face. Curled finger constricted upon the wheel even at the thought. If Christopher did harm her then no force in the world would stop him from pursuing vengeance.

The horrid, murderous thought dashed away as the sharp eyes of the Dark One spotted a warm yellowish glow in the snow driven distance.

Rumpelstiltskin's shoulders slumped slightly in relief, to at least see his search for the cabin had borne fruit and hadn't been a wild goose chase plotted by the mad Robin Hood. At least, if he could confirm there was light and the directions were true, Belle had a good chance of still being alive and not buried somewhere in the cold, frozen earth.

As he neared the slanting, ramshackle hut, he scanned the area for traps. Hood, even in their old world was not a man to be taken lightly. His cunning was annoying and brilliant all in the same instance.

Parking his midnight vehicle behind a nondescript black car, the fiend nearly pushed the gun in his inner pocket. His calloused hand wavered over the cold, loaded steel undecidedly. At least with the gun he'd have a chance to shoot the criminal, but Locksley had warned no fire arms. There was no doubt he had planned for such an occurrence.

Cursing himself for going in unarmed like a dithering fool, the fiend slipped the gun under the seat and opened the door. Blasts of wild, icy air cut through the thick layers of cloths and straight to his bones. Fighting the cold and the driving wind pushing the heavy snow fall, he managed to struggle his way to the leaning door.

Before he could lift a gloved hand the door yawned open ominously. Directly in his vision sat his Belle. The beauty sat bound before him so tall, so unafraid, so proud, so utterly Belle. Lantern light cast a drear, shadowy essence over half her face, but still she seemed to glow.

A smile twitched upon his lips simply to see her alive, but he fought the bubbling joy down deep to be replaced with cold carelessness. He couldn't act too eager and betray he would give anything to see her unscathed. No, this had to be a regular deal.

"Mr. Gold." Locksley greeted dryly from behind the portal.

Rumpelstiltskin stamped in, though the drafty inside of the cabin was little better than the howling outdoors. Every muscle inside his form sat tensed and ready for action, though he had no weapon, he could defend himself fairly well with his golden handled cane.

"Christopher Locksley. Good to see you again." The Dark One replied icily calm as the clever thief patted him down for weapons. "Still under strained circumstances I see." He quipped morbidly.

Making certain there were truly no weapons upon the businessman, the expert criminal held the gun level to the Dark One and reversed his steps for a few feet. Narrowed, ebony eyes stared at the magical monster as he jerked the gun more inside the shack in a silent command.

Gold complied without a word, stepping into the center of the run down cabin. Unable to resist staring at his Belle, his eyes shimmered ashamedly as he stared at the bruise he'd wrought. "You didn't hurt her, I trust."

"No worse than what you did." Christopher retorted cruelly causing the fiend to wince.

How had he known? Had Belle told him where the injury had originated?

"What do you want Locksley?" Rumpelstiltskin snarled dangerously, his lips twisted in fury. "To kill me? Let Miss French go and I'll remain."

The criminal laughed madly, though hints of indecisiveness flitted his insane tone. "Kill you? No, _I_ don't want to kill you. My employer wouldn't be averse to such an outcome."

"You'd risk your freedom to killing me for another person?" Gold parried expertly. "What would the town you've won over with your brave, noble actions think?"

Locksley scoffed in amusement, though with far more uncertainty. "It doesn't matter….none of it matters, and besides, no one will know your murderer was me. All the police will find is the frozen corpse of Mr. Gold, lost in the woods with his car wrecked and his body mangled with the steel. The mayor will see to your care taker here, and no one will be the wiser."

An alarmed Belle tried to speak through the dirty, off-gray cloth in her mouth, but nothing save a few incoherent mumbles passed the tight binding. The words of slaying her Rum made her wish to beg the thief for mercy. Never would she wish such a fate upon Rumpelstiltskin.

"Very well." Rumpelstiltskin announced so easily both Belle and Locksley stared at him in surprise.

The criminals brow furrowed in confusion and astonishment. "Very well?" He echoed. "Is that all you have to say? After all I've heard about the infamous Mr. Gold, the threats, the actions, that's very anti-climatic." Robin admitted in a dry scoff. His fingers drummed against the hilt of his gun nervously.

The Dark One shrugged nonchalantly, his tone nonplused. "What else can I say? It's obvious you seek my life. I am bereft of a weapon and in a shack in the middle of the forest. If you swear Anna will live then set her free and be quick to finish me."

The wind howled luridly out in the snow packed expanse and the fire in the cast iron stove crackled as the only sound betwixt the trio. Had the most notorious, ruthless businessman in all of Storybrooke truly agreed to be slain?

Eyes wide with fear, Belle stared at the Dark One willing to lay his life down for her. Every muscle in his form radiated calm and control. His gloved hand curled easily over his golden hilt without a hint of any trepidation or action to defend himself.

Tears pricked her cobalt depths even at the thought of him stepping in for her. After everything that had transpired between them, did he care for her enough to let death take him freely so that she could live?

Locksley stared hard towards the nefarious Mr. Gold as though he was some sort of enigma. Tracing his chapped lips with his tongue he shook his head faintly. "No…no this is some sort of trick."

"Oh no, no trick." Gold promised. To prove his devotion further he dropped his ash wood cane; his last probable defense. Wood and metal resounded with a sharp clack upon the littered floor ringing in their ears louder than the dismally mourning wind. Raising his hands he finished. "Here I am and I doubt you'd wish to keep your employer waiting to inform them of my timely death."

For long moments the brazen thief's eyes darted about fitfully. Indecision sparkled clearly in his ebony eyes like a fox caught by a hunter. His breath began to ooze out in heavy pants as though he'd been in a strenuous brawl. Sweat beaded upon his clammy skin, his face suddenly wild. "Why don't you put up a fight?" He yelled shakily and nervously leaned on one foot to the next. "Why aren't you trying to kill me?"

"I can't afforded to." Rumpelstiltskin retorted gently. Turning to his Belle his eyes softening affectionately to the beauty staring at him in panic. "I won't see her harmed."

"You…you do love her don't you?" Robin took a tenuous step forward, his voice suddenly quiet and tame.

Gold nodded and replied without a hint of doubt. "With all my heart."

Another fierce gust rattled the rickety shack upon its very foundation, but none paid heed. Proclaiming his love was another, perhaps far more dangerous move than abandoning his cane. Letting the defenses down to his bare soul was a far different matter to allowing his flesh to be harmed.

Silence reigned through out the drafty hovel like a smothering fog. Robin stood riveted in place, every muscle tense. His emotions lined every mar and blemish upon his bearded features. Turmoil stormed within as much as the weather beat relentlessly upon the world.

Belle didn't breathe until she felt her lungs pleading for air. With a tenuous breath she watched on as the Dark One and the notorious thief stared down at one another. Either Hood would shoot or perhaps there was something different in his volatile mind.

Slowly, amazingly Hood allowed the pistol to droop. The wild fervor in his onyx eyes began to recede as his muscles loosened.

Could Belle have cried out in utter relief she would have. For some reason their captor had had a change of heart! Could it have been the Dark One's words that touched him so?

Abruptly, the thief moved forward and murderously hefted the gun once more.

Belle screamed hysterically through the filthy gag wrapped about her mouth. Her muscles strained with a burning intensity and the ropes dug cruelly into her skin as she tried to break free and cried Rumpelstiltskin's name through the gag.

Before the fiend could move, even if wanted to, the clever thief swung his arm through the air. Vibrant, scarlet blood spurted from the Dark One's mouth as the steel came into contact with his jaw. His world teetered precariously upon a tops needle as he crashed to the floor in a heavy painful heap.

The fiends jaw throbbed mercilessly as he felt a wisdom tooth wobbling broken in the back of his mouth. Pain rang in a crescendo through his mind, unwilling to lessen its fervent intensity.

Looking down to the injured businessman, the thief holstered his gun and frowned grimly. "I like keeping things fair." He revealed cryptically and stalked out into the blasting cold and prickling stings of snow without a word.

Shaking the shock from his muddled mind, the fiend staggered uneasy to his feet. At least, he breathed a sigh of relief, his gambit had succeeded.

Ignoring the blood leaking from the edge of his lip, the fiend raced eagerly towards his Belle. Expertly undoing the knots that fettered her to the chair, his glassy orbs looked over her to make certain she was not mortally harmed.

"Rum!" Belle cried in abject relief as the gray, grime ridden gag slipped from her lips. "How did you…?"

"I've dealt with Hood before." He explained delicately, his face twisting with the resounding, aching pain in his jaw. He jerked of the last knot free, allowing the thick cords to fall limply in a heap to the floor. "Despite what he may seem, he still has his honor and his sense of right and wrong. He was hoping I'd fight back so perhaps he could slay me in self defense."

If memory served, Robin Hood had never once willfully taken a life. While the curse spun deceitful webs of different lives and stories, the powers could not change a person inherently at their very core. Not even magic wielded such influence or the soul.

Even as the last tough cord hit the floor, Belle leapt upon him. Her shivering arms wrapped her master in a tight hug as she pressed her forehead to the crook of his neck.

Sobs racked her slender form as she sought the security in his arms she so craved since the beginning of her harrowing ordeal with Robin Hood. "Thank you." She whimpered gratefully into his ear.

Despite the dulled throbbing in jaw, Rumpelstiltskin held her tightly for what felt like the last time, and perhaps it was. "I would never let you perish Belle. I would rip out my own heart before I'd let another take your life."

Helping her up to her up shakily, the monster wrapped his arm tightly about her as they maneuvered to the door. "Let's hurry to get out of here." He commented as the wailing wind whistled through the cracks in the boards. "I have much to tell you and very little time to speak my piece."

"Tell me what?" Belle mumbled and clung to him as they forge their way to his car.

He hugged her tighter in their arduous trek through the large drifts. "The truth. " He replied warmly and held her close one precious moment more. "All of it."

~8~8~

"So, we're in this land because you're looking for your son, Baelfire?" Belle asked uncertainly as though just making sure she was not mistaken. After hearing his sad tale of being injured and his unfaithful wife and the son he'd loved and lost, she sat dazed by the man known as the Dark One. In some ways he seemed a very hallow shell with his soul bared and the tragedies he'd endured.

Gliding the sleek sedan slowly through the icy streets, the fiend nodded absently. "That's right and hopefully in 28 years time, the curse will be broken."

An uneasy frown tugged upon the fringes of the Dark One's lips. With that last phrase, everything he had planned and plotted for years upon years was truly laid before her.

Never had another living person known his schemes. Things he had never told another soul were related in their slow journey back to town. At least now, she knew all his machinations before their ties were severed. Perhaps he owed it to her, he surmised inwardly, or perhaps there was more.

"And you can begin the search for your son." She concluded ponderously. Her eyes sat in a faraway look that always stapled across her face when she was lost in thought. While his intentions were noble, he had damned an entire world for the sake of correcting one wrong. But, she reckoned if the tides were turned would she have done the same, even for him?

Warmth from the car was not enough to keep the Dark One from shivering at her words. So far she had taken the news well, though in retrospect none of her opinion mattered on the fact; what's done had been done.

Gold nodded as the car slowly skidded to a halt in the slushy snow. Talons of remorse and longing constricted his weeping heart mercilessly. "Yes." He replied in a sorrowful sigh. He turned to gaze at her once more. "Now you know everything so here is where we must part."

What was he talking about Belle pondered, her gut sinking queasily. Turning her head to the dark tinted windows, her brow knit curiously. Vapors misted upon the pane, but she used her dirty sleeve to wipe away the coalescing fog.

The quaint sign of Granny bed and breakfast swung crazily in the driving wind, creaking upon rusted hinges in its own haunting clangor.

"Granny's?" She swiveled her head back to her master for clarification.

Rumpelstiltskin nodded slowly, his will forcing down a wave of melancholy. "Until you find an apartment that suits your taste." He revealed quietly.

Reaching into the backseat he pulled forth the black satchel stuffed with cash. Weight landed gently upon her lap as he deposited the funds to her. "Inside is enough money for whatever you could need. Your father's title to his shop is also inside. I've wiped his debt clean. And Belle…" He drew in a long wavering breath to steel his nerve. How the darkness festering inside him raged at was he was about to speak. After he had so proclaimed his secrets lying within the recess of his shriveled heart, the blackness was loathe to his next actions. "Belle, I grant you your freedom. After what I did, I can't….we cannot." His throat tightened in a vice unable to say the words needed to be uttered.

"Rum…." Belle felt as though her tonunge was a laden loadstone. She gripped the bag, as though gathering her courage and her voice.

He continued as words overflowed from his heart. "I wish I could take it all back, I wish I couldn't beg your forgiveness without ceasing. But I can't do any of that. I can do the right thing and let you go and wish you the happiness you deserve away from me."

"Rum." The beauty began again once she managed to force her tears from brooking down her features. "I don't think you hit me on your own volition."

The Dark One's features crinkled in confusion, his mind suddenly spinning. "How can you say that?"

"Hood mentioned something about Regina." She revealed haltingly. "He hinted that she told him to be out on the look for me and that I was supposed to help him. Rum, I think she knew I was going to be hurt."

"How?" He inquired quizzically. What did Regina have to do with any of the anathema he had conjured in his one instance of rage?

Belle licked her lips warily. "She stopped by today or yesterday rather. We had a talk and she left." Suddenly, the beauty laid her delicate hand his calloused grip and squeezed tightly as though he were he last life line to the world and all she'd come to love. "If she did somehow managed to manipulate what occurred I do not want us to grow apart. I won't let her ruin what we had."

Regina loathed seeing people together and happy and having what was denied her. Belle was determined, if she could help it not to let her destroy another happiness, especially her own!

"If she did…." Hope stifled any other words that wished to burst from his mouth. A chance! Perhaps there was a chance his actions had not been his own!

For the first time in hours Belle's bright azure orbs flecked with promise. If the harpy had used some wily trick somehow, someway, they could have a chance to redeem their torn relationship. They would not sever their ties. But if she had done nothing, then no, Belle promised herself, she could not stay with the man her soul pined and yearned and screamed to be near.

Gold hugged her tightly in his arms, desperate to cling to his Belle, to his last hope that perhaps he was not that type of monstrosity. Her hair smelt of the wood pine of the ramshackle cabin and the faint lingering scent of her perfume just hinted heaven to his harmed and bewildered senses.

For once, he hoped and prayed since he had made an enemy out of Regina and molded her into the monster she was, he fervently wished she had been up to her dire schemes and feverishly working upon a plot to cause him ill.


	23. Enduring Love

A shriek of unfathomable rage seethed like dragons flames from Regina's twisted, glossed ruby lips. Fury heavily lined her pallid face as the shaky, nervous voice over the line related who turned himself in when the sun was just beginning to rise over the frosted expanse.

"What do you mean Locksley arrived at the Sheriff's station!" She demanded in a threatening hiss through the phones receiver.

Guy's stuttering, fearful voice replied secretively. "I can't explain it, ma'am. I gave him every chance to get out! I even refused to cuff him."

"Well what did he say?" The mayor growled irritably. Her fingers tightened about the plastic of the black phone 'til it felt as though it would shatter in two in her vice grip. "Did he hint of anything concerning Gold or how Annabelle helped him?"

"Nothing, Madame Mayor." The deputy informed in a scared whisper. Panic flitted his coarse tone. If Regina's plot was revealed, he'd be on the report as well; ruining his sterling career! "He said he wanted to confess for the string of robberies and that was all. After a while I had no choice put to shove him into lock up."

Christopher was intent on being jailed, even if he had to break more laws to achieve such a goal. No matter how Stone threatened, the thief would calmly ask to be detained and spout off more crimes he'd committed.

A dark, profanity spat past her lips as the harpy paced the thick, burgundy Persian rug underfoot in her office. How she wished to howl in fury! Robin was a half mad, lose canon, of that she knew very well since she'd recruited him into her service, but he had never let her down before! What was the criminal's game now?

Placing a hand upon her curvaceous hip, she forced a calming breath to quell the conflagration blazing inside. "Put him on if you can. I don't have time to rush down there and judge if he's finally lost his mind for good."

A minor crinkle of static rustled across the line before another speaker took over. Regina hid her surprise to hear a for once, clam and even Locksley who didn't sound like some sort of criminal on the lam with the authorities tightening the noose about his neck. For once, the Fox of Storybrooke seemed tame.

"Madame Mayor." He greeted almost in the self same cocky cheek he possessed in their old world. "I didn't want to waste my one phone call on you, but one can't be picky I suppose."

At that, the sound of a fist colliding with his body suffused the background. A painful grunt erupted over the line that told Regina he was more than likely doubled over. Stone had probably punched him for the quip, but his cheeriness lingered like some spring fragrance dotting the air.

"I know what you want to ask." He gasped trying to catch his breath and laugh all at once. "No, I didn't kill Gold, and I'm glad I didn't. He and Miss French are free after I let them go."

Regina scowled darkly at the proclamation so joyously stated. Thin, wiry fingers drummed along the flesh of her hip as he pacing increased its tempo. "I don't know what you think your words have accomplished, Locksley." She snarled grisly. "Mr. Gold is still out for your blood and now he knows without a hint of doubt the man who stabbed him was you."

"And why, Regina." Her name slithered from his lips like a poisonous taste. "Do you think I'm behind bars? I'm in the safe arms of the unjust law, away from the both of you. Ironic isn't it?" He chuckled pleasantly.

"You'll never be secure from me." Regina swore and raged at the phone. Looking down at the piece of plastic, almost picturing Hood's wide grin, she screamed crazily. "Never from me!"

Agitated beyond reason, the witch angrily ended the call. Toying slightly with the dead phone in her grip, with a curse she tossed the cell to the wall.

Pieces of expensive phone broke against the white and black paint upon the walls of her study before falling down in a heap of wires and plastic. For a brief instant she imagined the phone was the crushed body of Robin Hood. A hint of satisfaction sparked in her heart, but not nearly enough to calm the storm in her heart for the treachery Robin had wrought.

She curled her hands into twin fists of dire frustration. In his suddenly scrupulous, noble actions what had he related to Gold? Had he struck a deal with the Dark One? How could she make certain none of his ventures trailed back to her?

"Something bothering you dear?" Mr. Gold voice echoed smoothly from the double, glass doors of her office.

The hair upon the back of her neck danced upon end at the sudden tone lingering through the air like acrid poison. Straightening promptly, Regina cleared her throat and turned to face the businessman as though she simply had not just screeched like a rabid banshee and took her ire out on a phone. Surprise flitted across her face before she should subdue the reaction towards his injured face.

An ugly blue and black bruise marred the left side of his cheek where Hood slammed the gun into his face. Directly under his eye the skin was puffy and an angry red of burst blood vessels.

Unable to contain a grin while looking at the nasty injury, the harpy smiled pleasantly, her mood lighting slightly. "Mr. Gold, what brings you by today?"

"A few inquiries." He admitted calmly with a shrug that did nothing to conceal the fury directed at the evil queen. Hobbling further inside he kept a cool, thin smile like a shard of glass. "Important inquires." Corrected the businessman.

She laughed vilely, her eyes glinting with flaunting, unadulterated hate. "What exactly do we need to discuss?"

"You know I made a mistake." Rumpelstiltskin changed the subject abruptly, not concerned in the slightest. Limping to the small, glass decanter near her desk he helped himself to some of her infamously strong apple brandy.

Pouring a quarter of the light brown liquid a glass he tipped it to her in a commending, vaguely mocking toast. "Here I thought I was the only one to sneak a few magical trinkets into this world. I underestimated you, my apprentice, very well done."

Coyly, Regina feigned innocence; though the moniker of apprentice galled her very blood. Apprentice was a foul reminder that no matter what transpired she would never be the master, but always be second best.

"I've no idea what you're referring to." She replied tartly. Her lips thinned into a carnelian line as she folded her hands delicately in front of her. "Now please remove yourself."

"How did you do it?" Gold took a tenuous sip and smacked his lips contentedly. He stared off into the distance as though daydreaming whilst ignoring her thinly veiled warning. "A potion, dust, some sort of tonic or elixir? I'm not certain but I think I would have sensed something like that being cast upon me. How did you manage to enact magic upon me without me knowing? Why did you use such a potent spell on little old me?"

"I used no potions, elixirs, tonics, scrolls, poisons, or dust, Imp." Regina replied calmly, her tone measured with a hint of cruel pleasure in his frustration.

Inside, the Dark One could not help but cringe. He always knew when some one was lying, even before he had become the Dark One. Just as he surmised, she hadn't used any potion or dust or he probably would have sensed the workings of their old world's magic's.

Pain weighted upon his heart like a boulder. His fingers curled tighter against the glass until the vessel nearly cracked to pieces in his grip. So Regina had not played a hand in the horror he had wrought.

Self loathing arose as hot bile in his throat. His own actions, his own beastly actions had done the unthinkable to his love. Truly then he was a monster like all before had claimed.

No! A sturdy, unrelenting will clamped down upon the deplorable thoughts, though his fortitude and hope were flagging. Maybe he was missing a piece to the puzzle, maybe there was a chance he had not done those things of his own volition. Perhaps Regina was lying an in this world he could not sense magic; their powers here, though little and stored away in vials and enchants, were unpredictable after all.

Draining the last of the brandy in one swig, he forced calm and cunning into his mind. His former apprentice was no sorceress to scoff at. She was clever, and trained by the best. Perhaps there was something he missed, some key to her powers.

"But you had to have known something would happen, for whatever you did." He bantered easily, trying to keep the disparity from his tone.

Regina shrugged nonchalantly. "Call it intuition, old friend." Her smile was akin to a demons grin. She winked mockingly. "Maybe I know you better than you think. I know what gets you upset; I know what little buttons to press. Perhaps all I did was pave the way to let your true monster emerge."

Pain gripped the Dark One's heart in its unrelenting vice. What little hope he once possessed, his last shot in the dark seemed fainter and fainter like a candles flames upon the very last speck of its wax. What if she truly had not done anything? What if his horrid action had stemmed directly from his own emotions of fury and uncontrollable rage and….

Abruptly, like a message delivered from heaven the answer revealed itself in the puzzle set before him. In an instant his thoughts clicked as one as the dots drew connections all about him.

"An incantation of impulse." Rumpelstiltskin figured breathlessly. Oh the sneaky witch!

Such a spell did not alter someone in any extravagant way which was the beauty of that particular magic.

A person could be slightly annoyed, and then with the spell could be ready to murder their offender or someone who struggled with speaking was suddenly an outgoing orator.

No, the magic simply heightened person's feelings. For Belle her curiosity would be unquenchable and his anger would be an uncontrollable inferno even if he felt the slightest spark of anger.

He had used the such magic once or twice himself to help 'push' people along when he desired another trinket, or to help weave his plans.

With enough power it would be a simple matter to have the spell 'jump' as it were though a few select people and since it was only an impulse, a subtle prod, that would be nearly undetectable. Of course, the downside of such a tricky spell, if someone mastered their emotions the magic was useless or knew the impulse had been cast upon them then they could maintain control.

Mr. Gold chuckled faintly, unable to hide the welling emotions overflowing in his lanky form. "Clever Dearie, very clever. I can't imagine loosing such a hazardous spell to try and thwart me. Using it must have been one of your greater dosages of magic you brought along."

"The occasion called for such a hefty spell." Regina retorted as though her actions were some practical joke. Though she bandied words in a tittering light heartedness there was no quelling the fire in her eyes. A cruel smile tweaked her lips. "I wonder just how your little slave girl fared. Even a little hint of your anger would rage to life at such a strong, subtle spell. Tell me." She smirked nastily. "Just how badly did you beat her after I planted the seeds of relentless curiosity? Enough she was even to afraid to go to Locksley for aid? Perhaps I overdid the spell just a touch?"

So that what she'd been planning, the fiend noted. She wished the incantation of impulse would have stoked his rage so much so, he would have beaten his Belle to a bloody pulp and she would jubilantly race into the arms of an expert criminal Locksley who could help her take revenge.

Smiling widely, Gold all but beamed at the angry mayor, his grin filled with a spine tingling menace. "Any other day, any other instance I would kill you gladly for speaking such words and using a spell such as that to try and take my life and harm the woman I love. Rest assured if you so try anything like that again, I shall kill you without hesitation or reservation and bring your severed head to Belle as a gift."

Regina's spine went rigid as fear tramped up and down her body at the easily spoken threat. The light airy tone in his accented timbre brought back memories of when he truly was the Dark One and had committed useable acts. Without a doubt she knew his words were truth.

Stifling the urge to swallow hard and hoist a hand to her throat, her eyes searched for a weapon to defend herself in case he decided to act. "And what's the reason you don't slaughter me today?"

"In many ways I've always respected you, Regina. Our rivalry has been one I've actually enjoyed and our challenges have given me many a close call. You, majesty, I can deal with, I can talk straight without any honeyed words betwixt us. You hate me and I hate you and you will do anything to see me brought low. And today…" He smiled dreamily and began to meander to the door. "Today, with your hate and will to see me bereft of any hope, and light, Regina you have made me a happy man."

With that, he left leaving a confused and mildly frightened Regina in his wake.

~8~8~

Belle twisted her clever fingers anxiously as she stared out the window of her room in the Dark One's mansion. Upon her neatly made bed lay a suitcases filled with clothes and a few other things she would ferry with her to Granny's.

Part of her wished she would have put off packing to pace with worry, or feel over confident that Rum had not committed his vile act of his own accord. But she could not linger by with the overcast shadow of what if he had struck her without compulsion.

If he came back with news that Regina had not played a hand in his abhorrent actions she would take her leave, but if she had played a hand in what he'd done…oh but if she had! If she had then they could begin to restore what they lost; what was yanked asunder from them!

With a sigh brimmed with wariness she jerked away from the window, unable to stare at the unblemished snow layered thickly upon the slumbering world. Waiting for his return felt akin to waiting for eternity to end. To the assiduous beauty she seemed as though she was stuck in limbo without a way to break free. Hours had passed and still there was no response.

Anxious beyond all reason, her gaze searched the comfortable room he had bestowed upon her to take her mind off the dire thought plaguing her mind. The cheery eggshell blue paint and the quaint homey feel made her gut churn to even think about leaving her room…her home.

How far she had come from a heap of old hay upon a dungeon floor with nothing but an old cloak to cover herself, she thought with a drawn sigh. What once was her prison, her iron cage without a door, was now her hearth and home.

Eyes of the deepest indigo fell upon one item in her room in particular as she turned to her bed. A white picture frame with curled designs upon its edges sat like a forgotten memento upon the nightstand.

Belle stifled a painful gasp at the sight of her only photo with the Dark One; the charity ball where the perfect, loving picture was snapped. Padding numbly over to the bed stand, the beauty shakily picked up the photo to admire the scene.

The picture was in black and white, but she could recall the gold in her dress and how the dim lighting, made his face seem more handsome than before.

Her clever fingers traced the outline of her former master's body. Tears glimmered in her bright orbs. How could she have forgotten such a wonderful moment? Even though they still denied their feelings, she could see what was his passion for her locked in his glassy chestnut depths and her blossoming love for him in the smile upon her face.

A strangled chuckled escaped her lips towards their stupidity as she stared down at the photo. How could they have been so blind before? Looking back their growing love was glaringly obvious.

Sitting numbly upon the bed, she clutched the picture close to her aching chest as the tears spilled unrepentantly from her smooth and discolored cheeks. What would she do if he came back with the words she dreaded to hear? She loved him with all the love her heart could express; how could they simply walk away from one another with leaving a half of their heart behind?

"Please." She begged aloud, her voice hoarse and distraught. "Please let this work; please let us have this second chance."

He saved her life, he made her feel alive and in love in all the emotions ever to be doused upon one body at one possible time. To love with all their heart and yet to let go would be a torment no one should have to endure.

"Belle." Rumpelstiltskin voice echoed softly through the room like the chime of a single bell.

The beauty did not turn and face him, but stared straight forward. Nerves danced upon a blades edge, ready for the words of glee or sorrow to slip from his mouth. But none came.

Instead, the Dark One scooped the beauty into a massive, encompassing hug. "Incantation of impulse." He revealed in stark relief as he held her tight to his body and whispered into the shell of her ear. "It's a spell that over amplifies feelings and emotions and quirks.

The beauty stammered. "So…so you mean what was simply anger turned into something worse?"

"Yes." He felt scalding tears of his own pricking his dark brown eyes. Happiness resounded through his heart, melting away all fear and insecurity. "Usually, the spell goes above and beyond. I don't know why it was dispelled when I first struck you, but I'm so glad it did….Belle I'm so glad."

Of course, even though he now knew he was not responsible for what had occurred, the horror of what he had done would never leave his memory. There were only two things in life he would always regret; letting his boy fall through the portal alone in the bleak forest and striking Belle, though not of his own volition.

For longer moments the pair stood quietly against one another. Their bodies breathed in tandem as though they were one flesh. Too know they could slowly, repair what damage had be wrought upon them seemed the greatest of gifts; a second life.

"So what happens now?" Rumpelstiltskin broke the loving quiet as he buried his face in her wild, russet mane. After so much had transpired in so few days, where were they left? Could they simply gather the pieces and attempt to fit back the shards of what they had?

Belle snuggled closer to his chest, her body sinking warmly into his. Never had she felt so safe, so loved. "Now?" She kissed him once upon the lips with the entire passion dwelling within her form. Her lush mouth retracted only an inch a way as she whispered breathlessly, letting the words rush freely from her soaring heart. "Now, Rumpelstiltskin, you marry me."


	24. To Have and to Hold

Happiness radiated rays of warmth through the duo as they stood clutched to one another in abject joy. Love entwined them together and bound their corded hearts were no claws of doubt or clouded disparity could sever their emotions asunder. Perhaps their feelings were for but a fleeting moment; born of two lonely hearts, but in that instance all the realm seemed right.

The world layered in pristine white of downy snow was forgotten and even Baelfire was temporarily cast from the Dark One's thoughts as his Belle's jubilant declaration swam dizzyingly through his vast mind. Marriage, she had proposed to wed him.

"Marry you?" Rumpelstiltskin echoed astounded, his words tumbling out in a disbelieving stammer that told tale of his unfathomable surprise. His Belle had just proclaimed the want, nay the desire, to join hands in matrimony with him?

For a moment, the fiend expected to shift awake and find none of what they shared real. He dreadfully awaited the instant of wakefulness from a raucous, buzzing alarm clock or the smell of cooking bacon and eggs to snatch him out of his lovely reprieve and back into the cold, cruel world where his wonderful servant thought of him, at best, a companion. But there she stood, still, in his arm, holding to her words and the love she uttered for him nary a hint of doubt in her eyes.

He knew she loved him as much as he adored her, but did she truly wish to seek his hand? Were not there other more deserving men than he for such a coveted title as Belle's husband?

Shocked, the fiend pushed the beauty at arms length, his mind awhirl with the very dredges of disbelief. His glassy depth searched her slender form up and down and all about as though she were nothing more than a figment of his ancient mind come to life. After all they had been through and that he had done, surely a wonderful, loving woman such as Belle should not wish to wed him of all lowly, deplorable creatures.

Her beaming smile, endearing and glorious, faltered just a fraction. Panic swirled the depths of her belly as her grip loosened from his frozen from uncertainly. A stutter of fear laced her whispering voice. "You…you don't to-."

"No, no, I do, with all my soul." Rumpelstiltskin soothed her tremor of fright and hugged her close once more. The fragrance of her perfume tapered about his nostrils. "It's just that…."

She snuggled comfortably in his arms, her heart ready to listen to all the fears that plagued the dark morass of his mind. Her fingers traced small swirling patterns upon his black suit jacket as she laid her head upon his chest. "Just what, Rum?" She coaxed tenderly.

With her nestled like a precious pearl in his arms he felt unstoppable. Every muscle hummed the tale of the Dark One renewed of all his vast, terrible power without the seduction of corruption hounding his thoughts and holding what he so desired to speak hostage.

He could feel her heart rapidly thumping like the racing feet of a hare through the thin materials that separated them; silently offering him courage and hope. His Belle would not scoff or scold or mock his words as Milah had done so many times at any confessions tucked away in his heart.

The Dark One hung his head slightly, unable to meet her seeking eyes thought he willed himself to be brave. Shame flushed upon his rough, weather skin as he clasped her hands. "Look at me, Belle. In our true world I was an ugly, crippled coward, then I became a nightmarish, snarling beast. In this world I am both. I am confused as to why you would pick me, your former captor. Surely there are younger, stronger, kinder men than I to give your love. Any man in Storybrooke would gladly vie for you; men who are not monsters. No one has ever wanted me before. Why you do want me when you could have anyone you desired?"

There had to be men far more worthy of her vaunted, treasured love, of that he was certain. Princes and earls and kings of their old realm would strive against one another fiercely for her affections. Beauty such as Belle did not simply wish to marry a beast and a coward.

A laugh, gentle and kind and touched by his words, brooked past her pink lips. No mock or disgust tinged her cobalt depths, but love such as he had never known dancing in her eyes for him.

Her fingers stroked his rough cheek lovingly as though dictating every line and texture to his flesh to memory. "There is only one man I desire, and that man, not monster, is you, Rumpelstiltskin."

Why could he not comprehend, the love she felt blossoming in his heart was truly, singularly for him? True, she could have had other men if she wanted, but no other man was like Rumpelstiltskin. In fact, she suppressed another giggle at a sudden thought, she couldn't not rightly see herself with another man.

Staring deeply into her startling azure depths that glimmered her devotion, her love, her affection, the fiend could not stifle a large grin. His calloused fingers brushed a stray ringlet from her russet tresses behind her ear as he whispered longingly towards the only woman he would ever love. "Then yes, I would be honored to have your hand in marriage, Belle-of-mine."

Her delicate hand curled over his calloused own in a silent squeeze of a solemn promise not spoke in words, but with the drumming of their hearts. "And I would be honored to have you as my husband."

Husband. A warm shiver happily thrilled up and down the Dark One's spine at such an honored title. Out of all the monikers he'd been given and names that defined who and what he was, husband to Belle made his heart leap and crash wantonly in his chest like some mad jester.

Pride welled through his body. He was to be a husband, and this time not for convenience sake hitched to a woman who despised him, but for love; true love.

"When?" He inquired breathlessly, his body only wanting to capture her mouth and lavish her with kisses of love no mere words could translate.

"As soon as possible." She replied equally as eager to feel his lips once more. Only a firm will held her desire in check.

No, she couldn't wait, not for him. How much time had already passed between them in denial of their emotions and then simply ignoring what simmered right under the surface for one another?

"Where?"

"Here."

"Big?"

"Small, only a select few."

"Think we can find someone who can make a wedding cake in half a day?"

"Worth a shot."

Abprutly, his lips crashed violently into her own, unable to resist the temping softness of her pink, lush mouth. The world spun crazily when he met her lips with his own. How one kiss could make him helpless!

Pulling away excitedly, he smiled like a bright eyed child. "How do we plan on explaining these bruises?" He touched a hand to her dusky bruised cheek as she did likewise to where Robin had dealt the blow with the steel of his weapon.

Remorse sparkled agonizingly in his chestnut depths as the memory of that fateful day flitted through his mind. Anger towards himself wrenched in the deepest part of his gut, cutting and hacking away with sinister talons at his happiness. Her bruise would be the only an only dark blot upon their special day like a splotch of ink spoiled on an ivory white dress.

"I'll think of something when I go invite my father." Belle carefully patted his cheek to avoid harming him.

With a loving sigh he kissed her once upon the forehead, his heated fervor for her tempered by the wrath of thoughts swirling in his mind of what he'd done. "I'll call the baker while you're out inviting who you will."

Only anyone his Belle invited would be attending of course. The beast of Storybrooke had no friends, only enemies and clients who would never wish him well in his journey of matrimony.

"I won't be long." She promised and hurriedly snatched her jacket from across the bed. A twinge of guilt sparked for not unpacking, but then again, she grinned merrily, ever the optimist, her things would be going into Rumpelstiltskin's room any way.

With one last, long, luxurious kiss, the pair departed for their errands.

Marriage! The word resounded sonorously through their minds with each breath and beat of their hearts.

~8~8~

Fierce blew the wind driven snow that stung the beauty with its harsh, frigid bite as Belle stood upon the threshold of her father's dingy off-tan trailer. A small trail through the blankets of grayish flakes wound from the stoop to his battered flower truck, but that appeared to be all the action to relate someone lived at the trailer at all.

The small dwelling sat dismal and dim, like a crumbling gravestone, without a speck of light peeping out of the tarp covered windows or under the doors. All that could be heard was the muffled sound of people on television cheering and ever so often a cough or the distinct pop of a soda or beer can opening.

Standing upon the door step in the slashing chill, the beauty shifted her feet through the snow that had gathered about her in indecision. Her knuckles hovered inches from the door to knock, but she could not forced herself to announce her presence. True, inviting her dearest papa had seemed a good idea while drunk upon the emotions and sensation of restored love with Rumpelstiltskin. She did indeed want her father to attend her wedding and even walk her down the isle as most women fantasized.

Now…she exhaled a drawn worried sigh sending misty vapor curling through the frigid air, now she wasn't at all certain. How would her dearest father take the news she was wedding the man who made his daughter work for him to pay of a massive debt?

Unlike herself, there was no doubt in her mind her papa would be less than delighted her daughter was marrying the terror of Storybrooke Ray Gold. Even now she pictured her corpulent father's bleary eyes wild with rage and indignation with white spittle flecking his thick lips.

He'd commence with abhorrent, disgusting ranting and raving and darkly cursing her fiancés name without relent and asking her if Rumpelstiltskin had done any vile acts like force himself upon her. Perhaps he would insist upon making up a lie or taking matters into his own, angered hands.

Of course her father would never believe she was the one to suggest and speak of marriage. No, her papa would never believe she loved Mr. Gold. Immediately he would assume their marriage to be a cruelty from the Dark One. Since he couldn't have a woman marry him for love, he would blackmail her into marriage and into bed.

The mess would spiral out of control before the last word even left her mouth. In less than an hour, she was certain, Gaston would be pounding down the door to the Dark One's pink manse trying to arrest her love or some how stave the wedding off.

Storybrooke would be aflame with a conflagration of gossip at the stunning news before the bleary, cloud veiled sun sank into the west.

Ruby would probably be the only one who would believe her even a bit if she told her only friend she was truly in love with the beast of Storybrooke.

Was telling anyone truly beneficial, even though her soul wished to sing of their union to the entire world? How many people would try to gain vengeance against the Dark One's discrepancies to them by attack her or people she loved? Regina has attempted to use her to slay her love why would another desperate soul not strike their hand at such a plot; foolish as it was?

Sadly, the beauty dropped her hand from the pain chipped portal limply. A single tear which the wind promptly chilled traced down her porcelains cheek as she shook her head regretfully. To have her father walk her down the isle was a dream, but one disappointingly not to be.

"If only I knew you would understand, Papa." She whispered painfully into the wailing wind.

Sorrow in her heart, Belle wrapped her thick coat about her fame tighter and crunched stoically through the thick drifts of snow, leaving her words unsaid and her father ignorant of his daughters wedding.

~8~8~

"How did your father take the news of our matrimony?" Rumpelstiltskin inquired curiously, his head perching up as the Belle quietly stalked into his, no, their home. A pen was gripped loosely in his hand with a few important papers need to make her truly, legally, part of all his life, scattered haphazardly across the table.

Snow trailed in after her footsteps, melting in the warm air as she shut out the dismal cold. Her emotions felt as the crystalline flakes turning into runoff at her feet.

The beauty unwound the bright scarlet scarf from about her neck, revealing a melancholic frown pulling the edges of her lips. "I didn't tell him; I didn't tell anybody." She confessed quietly and pulled off her gloves.

"Why not?" The fiend queried, his brows knit in confusion. Unrest stirred like a witch's cauldron filled with a foul brew in his belly. Had she left into the dreary world of Storybrooke only to find she was she ashamed to tell anyone she loved a monster?

Who wouldn't be ashamed, the darkness still lurking inside the recess of his jubilant heart snarled cruelly. Shame involuntarily rushed through him once more. Did he truly think she would go through with the marriage, the evil inside mocked.

Sliding back his chair, the fiend rose with only a twinge of pain in his aching knee and padded over to his love, his heart heavy. How could he have thought she would wed him? Perhaps they were only words spoken of a relived heart.

Belle stared down ashamedly feeling more a coward than ever in her life. "You know what happened to us when Robin Hood found out we were in love."

"He tried to use you to get to me." Rumpelstiltskin murmured grimly. His cane tapped lightly upon the tiled floor as he closed the distance betwixt them.

She nodded dourly, her voice cracked. "I know my father; he will not take this news well. He will do anything to break our marriage and I do think there are others desperate enough in Storybrooke to try to use me to get to you or seek vengeance. They don't try to persecute or harm me now because they think I am in the same situation as them; trying to work off my papa's debt." The beauty explained hesitantly.

"I will kill any who try to harm you, my Belle." The magical monster snarled possessively. Rabid rage danced murderously in his whisky brown depths telling the beauty her love meant every uttered word as a solemn oath.

A wave of protectiveness drenched over him. Any one who sought his Belle harm would meet an agonizing fate at his bare hands. Only the fool sought to claim a monsters most prized treasure and the Dark One was no different.

Gulping hard to reign in his fervent, beastly emotions, he forced the pernicious fury down staunchly to maintain control. Though the matter boiled his very blood she had a point, he knew horribly. Would they be willing to look over their shoulders for 28 long years in caution of who would seek their blood to slake their anger? He could handle himself, but Belle place dead center in the line of fire was unthinkable.

Belle tossed her head, her dark amber curls coming unbound of the thin strip of ribbon. "No. No killing. I do not wish for blood on my husbands hands in this world. We have a purpose here and that is to wait for 28 years so we can find your son." A smile illuminated her face like the moon brought luminance to the dark of night. "Then we shall be a whole family."

Rumpelstiltskin grinned widely, his anger, once great and unquenchable, easily doused by her smile and her words. To have Belle and Baelfire! The thought blazed through his mind as an impossible dream so close to reality it made him want to howl to the firmament in joy.

Abruptly, a sad smile etched his lips as he hugged her tight. "Do you wish then to postpone our wedding for 28 years?" He broached hoping to keep the disappointment from his accented timbre.

Waiting to marry his Belle for such an extended amount of time would be the most terrible of tortures. To see her and not be able to proclaim he was hers mind, body, and soul to the world made his heart lurch in agony.

"I'm still going to marry you in a day's time, you silly man." Belle uttered a muffled laugh. Her fingers threaded through his straggly brown hair as she sought to capture his lips. "Our marriage will just be a very, very quiet one."

Chuckling, the Dark One gently explored her lips, his thoughts relieved. A quiet marriage; yes, he could more than live with that.

~8~8~

For the first time in weeks, the curdled, gray clouds hoisting hoards of unblemished snow were banished from the firmament. A crisp, chalcedony blue painted the cloudless heavens as though the breath of God had breathed the world anew.

Snow glimmered like diamonds upon a bed of alabaster satin and topped the leaf bereft trees and homes like neatly frosted cakes. All the world lay happy and still akin to when a bad dreams departs from a child lost in slumber.

In the curse ridden town of Storybrooke, the realm was quiet and content except behind the redwood fence of the Dark One's salmon pink mansion.

The pair stood with joined hand in the frost and ice and snow happily. If either were cold they hid their discomfort well as they stared entranced and lost with only love and want in their eyes and hearts.

No, not even the cold could dampen their day.

Belle's golden dress from their night at the gala garbed her form making the sun shimmer off her more pleasantly than the surrounding snow. In the bright light of day, her dress nearly seemed woven of gold thread. The irony was not lost upon the pair, but well appreciated.

Her thick, russet mane was modestly done; simple and yet lovely as with everything she plied her hand towards.

The Dark One dressed in the same suit he'd worn that night at the charity ball. Gold cuff links and an antique pocket watch were his only decoration giving him a simple content quality. He didn't need riches or wealth galore; he had Belle.

The only witnesses to their matrimony sat upon the cold snow, unheeding the frost. Lady snuggled closer to her love for warmth as they watched their owners being wed. Bandit licked the brown haired dog's nose lovingly, a mischievous growl rumbling slightly from his throat.

A blue collar jangled about his neck with the name Bandit in gold inlay script. One leg was wrapped in a neat bandage while the area where the bullet grazed was little more than a bald spot over his mangy gray fur.

"_I want cake." _Bandit whined lowly sending a plume of mist vapors into the icy air.

The tiny dog rolled her eyes playfully towards her brave love and licked his snout in reply. "_This is a special day for them. Have a little patients, they're nearly done. Besides,"_ She added slyly. "_Now that you're part of the family there will be plenty of time for cake." _

Before her mate could respond with a witty retort, the small canine shushed him with a look. _"Quiet now, here comes the best part."_ She exclaimed as she turned back to look at the pair of exuberant humans lost to the world about them.

Each held a simple gold band in their hand as the rickety, black clad man like a blot upon the pure snow in the center spoke evenly through a coarse voice. The priest was a small, skinny man. His skin stretched tightly over his ancient bones like some morbid decoration. Hallowed, sunken cheeks and devious eyes told tale of the cunning behind the wrinkles, liver spots, discolored flesh, and rickety gait.

"Do you Annabelle Rose French take Ray Eli Gold to be your lawfully wedded husband?" The gangly, hoary haired priest asked solemnly.

Happy tears welled in Belle's sapphire eyes as she stared at her husband to be. Her words stumbled out shakily, her throat tight with emotion. She nodded faintly. "I…I do." Tremulously, she slipped the ice cold band over his finger.

The aged priest turned to the Dark One. "And do you Ray Eli Gold take Annabelle Rose French to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"With all my heart." Rumpelstiltskin replied lovingly. There words were not simply a promise, but a deal struck forever.

A gentleness sparkled in his eyes like nothing she had ever seen before as he reverently slid the ring upon her hand. Perhaps it was merely a coincidence or magic, but the rings warmed instantly upon their fingers taking what little cold they felt nipped at their bodies away.

"Then by the power invested in me in the sight of God, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride." The old priest proclaimed in his watery timbre and clapped his gnarled hand together.

Lady and Bandit howled madly in the sleepy quiet as the pair banished what little space stood between them.

Their mouths smashed into one another with a heart bursting longing as they sealed their promise of devotion through sickness and in health with a kiss that pushed everything but one another and that moment to remember away from their thoughts.

Joy erupted inside the Dark One to feel his Belle, his wife's, love exuded through the warm, world encompassing kiss. He was her husband! She did not simply belong to him in a deal, but rather they belonged to one another.

Only when the cold truly began to sink and brittle their very bones did they untangle their lips. The priest had long vanished back to his parish where the Dark One had donated a hefty sum for Claude Frollo's discretion on the matter of their matrimony.

At their feet a curious blue bird hopped along the ground and pecked at the thickly packed snow. Belle giggled, her being over flowing with happiness as she stared at the tittering creature.

"Look, Rum." She nudged him a motioned to the singing bundle of puffed cobalt feathers pricking at the earth and making little hopping tracks. "A bluebird, that means spring is almost here." Tears once more misted her cobalt eyes as he lovingly kissed her once more. "We made it through our winter and now comes our spring."

The Dark One whispered affectionately and stroked her hair. "And a glorious one it shall be, Belle-of-mine."

~8~8~

Warmth engulfed the quartet as soon as they entered the monolithic home of the Dark One. Regret pulsed through Rumpelstiltskin that he could not carry his love over the threshold, but his knee wouldn't allow for such activities.

As the door to the back yard clicked shut, Belle was upon him, pushing him to the wall with a ferocity that startled his usual on point sensibilities. Her lips pressed against his own once more stealing the breath in his lungs away. The warmth of her mouth stirred desire he had possessed for her since he'd first set eyes upon her beauty. Now that they were wed, they could seal their union as man and wife.

Her eyes of the darkest cobalt flamed with an intensity that made his good knee weak. Their was passion in her depths, passion he had never seen a woman hold for him. Wariness flecked her features, but also eagerness and curiosity and mystery. She had never lain with a man before.

A shiver involuntarily coursed up the Dark One's spine at the thought. He was to be her first, and he knew without a doubt, last man to have something so precious as her love. There would be no other to share a bed with her or to be lost in bliss wrapped in her arms.

Wordlessly, Rumpelstiltskin took her by the hand. His touch was the perfect mix of trust, gentleness, and the roughness of his work worn hands of a spinner as he silently, lovingly led her up to their bedroom.

~8~8~

The moon shone down upon the earth like silver coin illuminating the snow laden land. Belle snuggled closer to her love under the blankets of their bed. Her head rested upon his bare, slowly rising chest as she sighed contentedly and snuggled deeper into the warmth of his arms.

Now, finally, fully, they were one. One heart, one flesh.

A smile marbled upon the beauty face as she laid her hand upon his torso. "Husband." She whispered the name, tasting his new title like a splash of flavorful wine upon her tongue.

"Wife." He replied back, startling her. A mischievous smile crept upon his weathered face, telling the tale that he had not been as sound asleep as she surmised. He peeped his eyes open a touch. "Something amiss, Belle?"

She shook her head. "I just wanted you to know."

"Know what?" His voice took a slight tinge of concern. Opening his eyes further, with a little effort he sat up allowing a better view of her formed etched in detail by the thin sheet that hugged every lush curve of her body. When the slivers of pale moonlight hit the sheer fabric at the right angle, the thin sheet was almost translucent revealing her stunning form.

Her face was a peculiar pall in the silvery radiance, but just as ravishing. Even with her in his bed, still he could not fathom her as his own, and he as hers.

"That I love you." She explained and smiled in a way that banished all his fears with the mere up turn of her pink lips.

He returned her smile and with a deft twist managed to pull her over his sinewy frame. With her right above, looking down upon him he had never felt more passion for one person. To have a true love; was there anything so marvelous?

Kissing her wondrously slow, to savor every part of her, he replied before they lost themselves once more in passion. "And I love you, Belle-of-mine."

~8~8~

_A/N: This isn't the end of the story! Marriage doesn't mean the end and escpically in this case. I know I tend to end my tales on a high note, but this isn't the one. :3_


	25. Seventeen Years Later

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing guys. You're all awesome! :3_

**~8~17 years later ~8~**

Hazy, golden rays of dawn slanted through the gauzy sea blue curtains that shifted slightly with the cool wind and suffused their bedroom with a jubilant morn sun that befitted the day of all days. Warmth of spring danced upon the air, heralding the signs of springs glorious reunion to the snow covered earth.

"Any thing special on the agenda today, Rum?" Belle teased quietly in the gentle morn. Her timbre held heavily laced tones of mischief as she pecked a kiss upon his rough, stubble cheek. The prickly scruff that demanded to be shaven tickled her lush, pink mouth making a giggle involuntarily steal past her lips.

Lost in the very beginning of day, the tender beauty lay contented and warm by her lovers right side. Her head perched comfortably upon his scrawny shoulder as his lanky arm wrapped about her middle protectively proclaiming his eternal devotion to defend his wife with his cunning and life alike.

Her delicate hand rested upon his drumming heart, reveling in its strong, steady beat that pounded as one with her own. Oh to wake up in his arms every morning was a morning with a wish granted! Was there anything so glorious in their old or new world than their blessed matrimony? A large grin stole upon her face as she snuggled against his skin, her mind lost in mild pondering. No, there was nothing more satisfying than to wake by his side and know their fates were bound for eternity as one.

A sly grin crossed Rumpelstiltskin's rough face as he entangled his wiry fingers through her dark amber mane. He stared into his loves cobalt depths mockingly thoughtful as though approached suddenly with a major conundrum. "Well, seeing today marks our 17th anniversary I was thinking of something along the lines of taking a few days out of work, swooping you out to the lake cabin, and not coming out for a week."

Anniversaries were difficult betwixt them. Always a faint hint of melancholy shrouded their special day of matrimony. Never could they go out together for a quiet diner at the towns only upscale restaurant, or even be seen holding hands in a stroll about the park or daring a picnic to the eyes of Storybrooke. All the force needed for their carefully crafted, subtle marriage to unwind was one nosy soul in the gossip starved town and those who loathed the Dark One would tenaciously attempt to pry them asunder with their claws of hate, wanting to see him as miserable as they were.

Yet, both knew astutely, their love surpassed even those simple, special wants of outward affection in public. They held one another, and any want of activity to mark their memorable matrimony paled to the fact that they possessed one another happily, freely, without any secrets betwixt them.

Years had agonizingly crawled by in the prison of the curse riddled shire, but their loving endeavors had not grown lax of even those long years past. In the nights, where no one could see the love that only wove stronger each day, was their only repast and they made certain never to waste a moment of the time to express their love through more than what mere words could relate.

"Just a week?" The beauty remarked with a mocking, sultry timbre of an expert temptress. Her winter sky depths blazed with an unshakeable desire for him as her clever fingers innocently traced invisible lines upon the bare flesh of his slowly rising chest. "Do you think a week will slake our passion, husband?" She inquired gently, her lips twitching at the very edge of her mouth.

Prompted by her longing words, an excited shiver ran down Rumpelstiltskin's spine. Even after years of being wed to his wonderful Belle, he could scarcely still believe he was hers in every way. His arm wrapped tighter about her slender form, his hands knowing every curve of her sinuous shape by heart. After all their years as one, he knew every contour and inch of her peach toned skin.

He shurgged in careful nonchalance. "Maybe more." The fiend readily indulged his love, his breath hitched and hoarse as though she were the only thing needed to thrive upon. Perhaps she was, he pondered immediately taking a shine to the pleasant notion.

If he were a parched man, then his Belle was the drink to quench his thirst. Her voice was the song that prompted him to arise in the gray dawn, her smile the beaming sun that warmed the coldness ever lurking in his shadowed, beastly heart.

Without her, he felt bewildered, alone, and uncared for. Without her, he was lost in nothingness and darkness and depravity.

She owned him far more than he had ever laid claim to her.

Her warm, soft mouth drifted closer to his, ready to delve him into a world of passion. His lips eagerly leaned forward to seal with hers and once more proclaim their love through action.

Only a hairsbreadth from his lips, the beauty smiled mischievously. Shifting her position, she touched his forehead with her own, but went no further, denying him what he so craved.

"You have to get ready for work." She reminded him in a whisper, blatantly taunting.

Frustration mildly welled in the Dark One, seeing the instance of love snuffed out by his playful, curious wife. "You know teasing a monster is never wise, Dearie." Gold remarked in an unsatisfied murmur, his blood slow to cool it fiery gallop through his veins.

Her offered love was a pleasure he rarely denied his body and having her pull the object of his desire afar, made a rumble roll like thunder in his chest. She only coaxed her love and then receded like a coy nymph when she was in an especially mischievous mood which meant better things to come in the future.

"Which is why I never have?" She chuckled, always ready to deny his words that he was less than a man. Even when he was an odd gray-gold, scaled fiend she still thought no less of him and would have denied his self loathing as a beast then as well.

With a sigh she slid away from his hungry grasp and to the edge of their bed. The beauty chuckled as she tossed a pillow in his direction. The fluffy projectile bounced harmlessly off his raised arm and unto the wood floor.

"But still, you have to get to work just the same." She echoed assiduously and slipped on her slippers and white robe in one smooth motion before rising.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he feigned suspicion. "And just why do you want me gone? Usually you deter me as much as possible with your…." He flourished his hand through the air, reminiscent of the glimmering skinned Dark One. "Womanly wiles."

Traipsing to the washroom she took a moment and turned back to look towards her love. Sun that slipped through the drawn curtains danced in her russets tresses, setting her mane ablaze to a fiery, nearly golden sheen. There was no tease or loving jest upon her smooth, porcelain features aglow with light as she stared directly into his glassy, chestnut orbs. Lust, full and feral sparkled in her eyes making his blood run feverishly once more.

"Because, husband, the sooner you leave, the sooner you can come back and we can have our week." She explained softly before stepping into the washroom.

At such swords, the fiend couldn't tear himself from addictively staring at his tempting wife 'til she quietly shut the door with nothing more than a click.

Exhilarated beyond mere, paltry words could express, the Dark One sat up in bed, his mind awhirl with delicious possibilities. A week pretending the world, Regina, desperate souls, even his shop did not exist seemed a slice of paradise all in his lake side cabin.

Getting away to his second home wouldn't be to much hassle and wouldn't raise any suspicions amongst the populace of the accrued county. Oft days went by without his Belle leaving the pink manse. Her father went months at a time not seeing hide nor hair of his daughter. No, none would even raise curious brow if they departed for a week, or perhaps two.

Water hissed and pattered loudly from the washroom pulling Rumpelstiltskin out of his dazed, wanting thoughts of being with his Belle. Only a moment passed before he slid out of their comfortable bed and snatched the golden, hawk nosed cane from his side of the bed.

His cane thumped rhythmically towards the wash, his form brimming with anticipation and hope. Perhaps, he considered wonderfully as he limped doggedly determined into the already steaming room, their anniversary would start off marvelously after all.

Her alluring smile wove coyly upon her lips seeming half adumbrate through the mist as he stepped inside. Blood gushed through his veins as she pulled him close, drawing him in with the temptation of another warm kiss.

Yes, the fiend imperatively as he numbly wandered into the bathroom and closed the door behind him, the beginning of their anniversary would be far more than delightful….

~8~8~

"So you see, Mr. Gold, my grandmother gave me that music box, and I know I don't have all the money to pay you back, but I'm only thirty-five dollars short so if I could-."

"The deal was fairly specific Sister Perry." Gold cut through callously to the plump, blue clad nun shifting uncomfortably in his shop.

The rosy cheeked, former fairy godmother to a princess put to supposedly eternal slumber by a sleeping curse stammered uncertainly. Her gray eyes stared at the cold businessman imploringly as she pushed the wad of crumpled bills towards him. "Yes, I know, but the box was very special to me and…."

Rumpelstiltskin suppressed a fatigued sigh as the chatty, normally merry nun drabbled on about her blasted porcelain trinket and how the heirloom passed down the family lines the curse put in place of their true memories. Usually he would be more than ready to listen and offer a stinging retort, but not today.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sought to keep control from roaring barbarically at the hoary haired nun and showing her the rage of the beast of Storybrooke, snapping teeth and all. Agitation flitted just below the surface of his cold composure willing to break free.

No, he reminded himself, his fingers curling against the side of the counter, he had to maintain focus.

Every fiber in his body wished to shove the nun out the door and close up shop to hasten to his loves arms awaiting him. With every tick of the old clocks gathering dust in his shop, his whisky brown eyes darted to check the time as though magically the hands would be on the three and the twelve when he closed the shop early. But with the cheery, talkative nun jabbering about her tenth grandmother, time itself seemed to slough by with a turtle's languorous pace.

"Alright." Mr. Gold growled icily, his razor-like cutting tone severing the nun's tangent about a scrumptious pie recipe her supposed grandmother concocted.

Reaching behind the counter he pulled the porcelain white and blue carousel engraved music box from the barrier of glass. He shoved the precious item towards the corpulent former fae and snarled warningly. "Pay me the rest later, but I warn you don't try to cheat me."

The sister placed a plump hand to her chest indignantly. "Cheat you? Why Mr. Gold, what a nasty thing to say! I am a nun of honest repute you…you…wretched, monster!"

"I don't care if you are a fairy godmother." He snapped, unable to resist the delectable irony, and slammed his hand upon the counter. A few trinkets jumped from the force as he glared daggers at the offended sister harrumphing in blustered astonishment he would speak such words of her being little more than a crook. "Get out of my shop if you've no more business." He snarled dangerously, his eyes glinting with threat.

A haughty insulted sniff echoed from the nun as she gathered her precious item with due haste. With a scolding glare which the Dark One brushed aside with ease, she hastily harried out of the shop and into the warm weather of returning spring.

The back of her habit fluttered like woolen wings against the warm air as she started back to the convent. Her normally kind, round face set marred with her frumpy fury as though she had bitten into something sour.

The jingling of the brass belle tinkled as she departed reminding the fiend once more of his love awaiting him back home. Longing desperately surged through him like a wave which pulled him out into the center of a vast ocean. How could he endure so long without feeling her lips against his own, her flesh flush and warm against his as they became one? On their anniversary at that!

Casting a quick glance to make certain no one was currently wandering into his shop, Rumpelstiltskin, dipped back behind the counter to bring forth an oblong, leather box. His thin fingers worked the silver clasp 'til the box opened revealing his gift to Belle.

Rows of impressive, inlaid dark sapphires with a faceted, deep cerulean gem in the very epicenter sat upon the bedded, red satin of the vessel. A necklace in her favorite color, he beamed proudly, staring at the glittering jewels sparkling in the dust filtered light of his shop.

His haggard reflection smiled back at him; approving of his choice for his love. Part of him felt as though the present was paltry compared to the blessing she brought him every moment, by being by his side as his wife. But, then again there was no harm in attempting to show affection with a lavish trinket, especially for a woman he wished to bestow the entire world.

Unable to tolerate no longer being by her side, the magical monster snapped the rectangular box shut. Pushing the long box in his pocket the fiend raced with a frenzied to the door with as much haste as his maximized limb could bear. Flipping the sign to closed he flicked the blinds shut and scrambled for his coat.

He did a quick scan of his dust laden shop making certain lights were off and things were in their proper niches and cubbies. When at last everything was set aright, Rumpelstiltskin excitedly made his way to the back door of his shop.

To be with his Belle! The thought burned brighter than a thousand summer suns in his mind. His imagination sailed away to images of them sitting cozy and comfortable by a bickering hearth sharing a blanket. He pictured himself holding her close and expressing his love with simply being there with her and letting her know there was no other place in their old world or the new he would have rather been.

Pride welled in his heart once more to think of the look upon her face as he handed her the box. Part of him could only hope she adored his present as unworthy as the set of sapphires were.

So exuberant was he to relish in the smile of his love, his heart, the fiend never noticed the tiny bundle nestled in a blue clothes basket upon the back stoop of his pawn shop until to late.

An alarmed cry erupted past the Dark One's lips as he was sent flying form the top of the small set of concrete steps. The awakening earth spilled from under the Dark One as he went sailing to the cold, snow cleaned alley way in a hard fall.

Bones rattled in his wiry frame as bits of dirt and gravel dug into bits of exposed skin. His finely tailored pinstripe suit was splattered with mud and grit and filthy snow. Pain wrenched his twisted knee with its razor claws of agony, but the fiend ignored the resounding torment shooting through his injured extremity.

No pain could compare to the shock before him.

Widened eyes rounded like twin russet moons towards the back stoop of his shop. Sitting upon the first step laid a critical key to his plot, the great key that would unlock all the rest….

~8~8~

Softly wafted the faintest warmth of spring upon the chilled, accursed town of Storybrooke. Mayhap the change was the workings of ancient magic's in the deepest belly of the strange earth they trod or perhaps coincidence, but the first day to tell tale spring always landed upon their anniversary.

No matter how cruel the winter, or icy the storms that pelted the northern land and ragged coast, their special day they had bound themselves as husband and wife always marked the day when the earth began to reawaken. Heat glided upon the air and the snows began their slow melt into the hard earth giving life to the slumbering plants and seed sequestered from the bite of winter's fangs.

Bluebirds and robins twittered their merry tunes of return, upon their lofty perches, to the frozen land of the backwoods hamlet as Belle stared dreamily out the slightly frosted window. Her head rested in her hands as she leaned out of the open window allowing the cold and scant warmth to kiss her face.

The day was akin to the moment they'd wed, she reminisced happily. A flawless blue adorned the firmament without a white mar of clouds to meander across the plains of indigo. Spring drifted ever so lightly upon the air like the last scent of a lover just barely clinging to the wind.

A few more hours, she sighed longingly and stared up into the flawless azure sky for strength not to rush down to her husbands shop. Breath blew out her mouth in a small burst to shift a stray strand of hair agitating from her unnatural impatient. Even a little more time seemed eternity to the beauty who only wished to be wrapped in her lover's arms in the singular cot and be one with him until the world was forgotten.

Tires abruptly rolled into the driveway even as the pleasant thoughts wafted through her bright mind. Her ears perked curiously towards the noise as thought hearing the sound of an angel. Excitement began to spiral crazily within her slender frame.

He couldn't resist either, she knew instantly, her heart soaring as the fluttering birds dancing upon the warm thermal wind. A large, eager grin marbled gaily upon her pink lips as she raced to the door to pull him inside.

Expectation surged through her as he vivid imagination ran wild with scenes of perhaps would come with her husband. Her feet barely seemed to land upon the floor as she raced to meet her lover before he could open the portal.

Scrambling for the myriad of heavy steel locks upon the door, she jerked the portal open with a fervent strength. How she wished to be surrounded by his love!

As the door yawned open freely, the beauty's jaw swung agape at the site before her.

Rumpelstiltskin stood before her nervously, his natty, neatly ironed suit unusually disheveled and crumpled. A wary grin splayed across his mouth as he stood upon the threshold anxiously.

Belle's stunned, cobalt eyes drifted down from the nervous smile etched upon his lips to the squirming, crying baby boy cradled in his arms. The tiny child was wrapped snugly in a light blue blanket along with her husbands over coat wrapped about him for extra warmth. Even so, the babe attempted to kick and punch through the cloth to pound his fist and thrash his feet through the chill air.

She swallowed tremulously, her eyes pinioned to the struggling child in trepidation. "Is that…is he…?"

A sinking feeling welled in her gut as she already knew the answer.

"Another piece of the plan falling into place." Gold confirmed with a slight nod. Shaking off the gathered snow from his leather shoes, the fiend unwrapped the child slightly and deposited the babe uncertainly into his Belle's numbly outstretched arms.

The child cheeks were a healthy, ruddy hue and he cried with fervor to wake the dead. Now with his movements unhampered, his tiny fist clenched and unclenched as though he were seeking something or someone.

Belle stared down at the tiny, shrieking bundle in amazement as though she'd never clapped eyes upon an infant. Though there were a few babies in their accursed town, she'd seen few and far between in their stay.

"What's the child doing here?" The beauty queried haltingly, unable to pry her eyes off the child. He was so tiny and alone and frightened.

Warmth shimmered in the Dark One's eyes as he cocked his head slightly and stared softly at the helpless infant abandoned behind his shop like an unwanted trinket. Sadness shadowed just under the surface of fatherly tenderness as he let the child wrap his tiny hand about his calloused finger.

"We need to keep him here a few days until I can get everything sorted." He sighed forlornly, his mouth filling with distaste. A ghost of a satisfied smile streaked upon his lips before melancholy dashed the faint grin away quicker than it had come. "Then we give him over to Regina's care."


	26. Sorrowed Heart

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing you wonderful people! I've never gotten so many reviews before and I'm just touched! You guys rock! I truly hope you all are enjoying the tale so far :3_

**~8~8~ **

Rumpelstiltskin sighed tiredly as he stared at the flimsy, white plastic bags full of hastily bought baby supplies. Baby powder, nutrition rich formula, plastic bottles, wipes, diapers, and a host of other needs for a new born child all sat before him ready for use.

Stunned, the fiend ran his wiry fingers through his straggly hair trying to make sense of the sudden change that would shape their fates. How had he forgotten from his years of single fatherhood and caring for Bae when the careless Milah refused or was out gallivanting with unscrupulous folk, how much care a baby, even for a few short days, would take?

"I can't believe you manage to get all those things without raising suspicion? Belle declared, mildly awestruck, whilst she wandered in the kitchen. The babe rested asleep in her arms as she padded upon cat's feet to stand beside her love without rousing the bundle from slumber.

A sly grin cross the Dark One's haggard face as he shrugged innocently . "I told that bumbling clerk I was donating some things to a Miss Ashley Boyd." He chuckled and offered her a roguish wink. "She supposed to have her baby soon."

"They said 'soon' seventeen years ago." The beauty rolled her eyes in mild scolding for his lie, though the very edge of her lips twitched.

With a small bow, Gold proffered his hand to the table laden with products to care for the child. "Well everything is here the child needs."

Belle stared surprised at the mass of objects heaped upon the table, mirroring her loves previous shock. In their old realm, children would not have half as many items. Even the wealthiest of noble born babes would not be allotted so much for their care.

How strange and different their new world was indeed, Rumpelstiltskin pondered. A thin, sardonic smirk lined his lips at the thought, but he shook the contemplation away 'til a more convenient instance allowed his mind to ramble where it willed.

His crooked grin faded akin to smoke upon the wind as he turned to the beauty sadly. Touching her arm gently he spoke nary above a whisper, his voice tinged with remorse. "Forgive me, Belle, I didn't know the child would be coming like this, and on the day of all days our anniversary. I'm sorry for ruining our week."

He'd wanted so desperately to do something special for his eternal love, and even that was snatched away by the dark talons of the curse. The darkness lingering like a foul stench over the accursed town seemed to take pleasure in dashing their most precious of moments into rubble and ruin.

"You ruined nothing." She denied lowly and slightly shifted the sleeping infant in her arms. "This counts as special in my book."

A large, dazzling smile adorned her lush, pink mouth as she kissed his five o'clock shadowed cheek gently to assure him. How could he ruin their anniversary when all she desired with every beat of her heart was him?

The Dark One, smiled faintly, and began to return her loving gestures upon her lips when the child shifted between them. Low bubbling cries murmured from the babe as he began to kick and move once more. His tiny pink mouth yawned open nearly to the point of an ear splitting scream.

Humor and frustration glimmered merrily like burning embers in the Dark One's eyes. The devious fiend limped a step back, as though the babe were a poisonous serpent waiting to lunge and sink his fangs into his weathered flesh. "And now I can't even kiss you without another man butting in." He jested lightly.

"It's only for a little while." The caring beauty remarked as she rocked the infant into the realms of peaceful dreams. Melancholy involuntarily hinted her quiet timbre like a gray gray cloud scudding over the noonday sun.

Even though she had battled tenaciously to keep her distance from the squirmy, sweet babe, her fondness grew for the curious child. To be sure he could scream when the mood took him thrall, but he was a bright, knowing baby who'd stolen her heart like an expert burglar.

Pain and regrets cruel talons gripped the magical monster with icy claws shredding his very soul. His clever mind instantly drew the connection from her dour tone. The longing look in her cobalt depths spoke the words she kept locked behind her tongue.

Watching her tenderly coddle the child, her kind voice coaxing her fear and tears away as she rocked and bounced him, he knew she was growing attached to the babe. Perhaps, he considered for a moment, his heart rending with insufferable guilt, he should have left the infant in the care of the nuns and not brought a bitter sweet burden into his loves arms and their drafty, empty mansion.

"Belle." He placed a hand over her own that rested over the child. A hard lump lodged tightly in his bobbing throat, but he forced his voice through the wrangling about his neck. "He has to go to Regina."

The beauty tilted her head down towards the small bundle as though the words struck her low. Wispy tendrils of her dark amber tresses floated mere inches from the child's face, swirling through the slightly chill air. The tiny boy's eyes were once more beginning to close as Belle rocked him gently. Her warmth leeched to him, filling the child with safety and love.

Nodding, the russet haired beauty swallowed hard, fighting the agony within. "I…I know. He will help set things aright in his own way but…." She swallowed and looked up, her cobalt depths confused and torn with sorrow and disgust. "Must he go to that hard hearted, witch Regina? Surly there are others who'd be better fit to rear him?"

Why did such innocence and purity and goodness have go to a shrewish harpy? Were not their others who'd take the challenge and fill the role in giving the child a happy home far, far away from a deplorable, wicked woman?

"He must go to Regina so the one who will save us all will be drawn to the direct source of the taint here in Storybrooke." Gold explained gently and clasped her hand.

Emotions of sorrow and regret welled within his scrawny frame. If only he had known the love he shared with Belle long ago when grief for his son fueled his intentions. If only, when he was still attired and clad in gray-gold flesh and dragon skin raiment, his Belle had been in his life to bring light into his foul, wicked darkness he would never have let a child fall into Regina's clutches. He would have concocted different schemes, but change was far too late to be made.

The beauty gulped back hot, bitter tears of understanding. Though their seventeen years had been mostly happy ones, she found herself wanting more than their small, secret family.

How she wished to hear the pattering thump of little feet racing upon the wood floors, and laugher resonating from the garden as children cajoled and played in the rustling summer grass and the scarlet leaves of the chill fall. How she dreamed of the day her husband, her lover would sire her children so they could be more than man and wife, but rather to be together as mother and father.

Long moments passed before either spoke. The only sound betwixt them was the tiny, audible breaths of the child lost in happy dozing. Most of the day had passed leaving a few streaks of golden light that obliquely streamed through the windows.

Circling his arm about his wife, the fiend whispered apologetically, his voice wrought with sorrow. "I must contact Regina. She'll come down, do a bit of paperwork, get her household in order for the child and then the babe will be given over." He paused before daring to speak once more. "You perhaps have a week with the child, maybe two if Regina hasn't planned anything in preparation for a child she's hounded me seventeen years for. I can attest no more than that."

At least, if he could not grant her a child, she would have a little time exploring the grounds of motherhood and all it entailed.

"Thank you." She wiped a stray, cold tear from her porcelain cheek and smiled sadly towards her love. A small, dour laugh wrenched with sadness gasped from her lips. "Perhaps I shall see if I will be a fit mother for your son."

At that, the fiend allowed a large grin to weave upon his face. Kissing her upon the forehead he chuckled lowly. His knuckles lovingly stroked her cheek as her whispered softly. "You will make an excellently mother."

Another dagger of guilt stabbed his gashed heart once more. If only he could grant her the title of mother. But not at that point and time. No, now was the time for manipulating Regina and setting the final piece of his expertly tailored plan in place.

~8~8~

A child! The word flared and resounded through Regina's cunning mind like bright gouts of dark magic. Her hands clenched discreetly to her sides to keep the eagerness away from her ashen features as she marched briskly down the snow encrusted lane leading to Mr. Gold's home.

Warm wind tousled her silky onyx hair pleasantly but not enough to conjure the hoards of glistening snow into slushy melt just yet. The world itself was rankling from sleep and along with it the witch's hope for seeing a dream a reality after seventeen long years!

She had been shocked when the phone rang early in the morn with Mr. Gold for the first time since the curse telling her some good news. Some how, some way, fate and fortune had allotted her a child! Child, how the word rang like bells through her head!

Despite what many of the accursed townsmen supposed, the witches ever lasting, stony, untouchable demeanor was a carefully built façade perfected over years of vile tricky and wit. In truth, she was a lonely woman bereft of allies or friends.

Beside for the occasional rendezvous with her heartless, enslaved huntsman for a brief tryst in passion, her large, lavish home remained cold and barren as her black heart. Days stuck in the colonnaded mansion nearly made her go mad with encroaching loneliness seeping like sun fall upon the world into the borders of her mind. Some nights when the world lay quiet and solemn she wandered the marbled halls, and drifted from room to room like a lonely phantasm searching for something that would never be.

A squeak of abject elation faintly slipped past her lips as she stopped at the Dark One's stoop. Shaking the thoughts away, she forcefully clamped down upon her bubbling emotions with a staunch, controlled will. Her face calmed to its normal, pallid, placid state without a wrinkle out of place betraying the happiness whirling through out her soul.

Before she could even lift a hand to knock, the cherry wood door yawned open.

Dreary shadow lined the Dark One's rough features liberally giving him an ominous quality like his Dark Castle of old. His dark brown eyes glimmered with something the harpy had never seen before; guilt, regret?

One dark gloved hand curled tighter about his ash wood cane. A thin smile traced upon his lips as he motioned inside. "Please come in." He bade with unusual gentles.

Suspicion shrouded over Regina. Her mouth pursed incredulously as she slowly ascended the snow cleaned steps. "I do hope this is worth my time." She warned tritely, her tone crisp and snipped.

"Indeed it is majesty." The words fell blandly from his mouth, his lips skewed in disgust not even rising to the bait of prodding her patients.

Alarm bells pealed in the vile queen's head in a raucous clangor. Eyes of teal strafed over incredulously to the fiend as he escorted her through his home. Nary a taunting word escaped his lips, nor a sinister, slick smile that infuriated her so.

Gold wasn't himself, she knew imperatively, her guard risen. Something was nagging upon him, rending him on the inside as an eagle's beak sliced through a soft carcass.

"The child." He announced and led her into his illuminated living room.

A tiny, blue bundle sat swaddled in Belle's arms as they entered the sufficiently bright chamber. The beauty stood off to the side, the child comfortable in her grip.

Anxiousness instantly replaced the excitement and even the suspicion of Mr. Gold in Regina's mind. The baby looked so tiny in Belle's tender grasp; so fragile and helpless to the cold cruel world in which he now called home.

Swallowing what felt akin to a boulder lodged in the very center her throat, Regina took a wary step forward. Her turquoise eyes glimmered a watery sheen as her eyes sat stapled only for the infant. She kept her hands close to her chest whilst she scuttled forward like the child was some foreign animal she was wary to pet.

Surprise radiated from the beauty's slender frame as she beheld what seemed like an entirely different Regina Mills.

Normally, Belle loathed the harpy who always made her feel lesser for being the Dark One's property. After all she had wrought with her schemes and plans forged of hatred, she was hesitant even let her clasp eyes on the child. Yet seeing the witch bereft of her cruelty and villainy, she felt her own walls tumbling down brick by brick.

Gold watched the pair with baited breath. His eyes intricately scanned the situation and every possibility that could occur. True, Belle had conceded to his plan, but things changed when a child came into a life, of that he knew well.

"He…he's precious." Regina gushed softly, unable to contain her elation any longer behind the wall of cold conniving.

Light and gladness seemed to scour away the inky blots and stains of evil painted upon her soul as she stared the pure child. A true, warm and genuine smile spread across her ruby glossed lips making her seemed more than a pallid corpse with evil intentions.

Compassion stirred in the beauty towards the woman who'd wanted to see her harmed. For the moment, at least with the small child they were not enemies.

Shifting the child slightly, Belle stared at the harpy curiously as though seeing her for the first time. "Would you like to hold your son?" She inquired tremulously, biting back the pain of the words.

Regina tilted her head up, her eyes wide like a child allowed a sacred right for the first time. "C-can I?"

"Of course." Belle managed a small laugh though the sting of her words bit deep in her soul sending burning poison through her veins.

Slowly, she held out the child who remained sleepy and unaware of the timeless stream of destiny he floated upon.

Regina cradled the child close to her chest to keep the faint draft that whispered through the mansion from assaulting his tiny form. The child squirmed slightly in her arms and opened his eyes.

Dark brown eyes, reminiscent of Daniels bright orbs, met her shimmering jade depths with a happy curiosity. A tiny hand reached out as though trying to touch a new face.

A quiet laugh sailed from her lips at the action. Stroking the babe's cheek with the back of her hand she whispered lovingly to the child. "Hello my little prince." She greeted with a softness that seemed to deny it came from Regina. Turning her head back up she stared at the beauty not as an enemy but as a mother to be. "Does he have a name?"

Not trusting her voice to crack, Belle simply tossed her amber mane as a negative. Her heart warmed seeing Regina happy with the babe, but envy stirred in the shadows of her soul.

"Henry." The witch crooned softly to the curious babe who cooed and gargled happily. "I want his name to be Henry Daniel Mills."

Even lost in the morass of sorrow, Belle admitted inwardly the name was befitting to the child. A false smile bloomed across her smooth face as she accepted the baby once more into her arms.

With a sigh, the Madame Mayor twisted back to the Dark One. Her face once more frosted into a hard, stony wall nothing could penetrate though long, winding cracks appeared along the marble façade she used to barricade her heart. "Well, Mr. Gold, let's get the papers straight. I expect to take the child home in three days."

Pain wrenched ruthlessly in Belle's heart at the words. Three days seemed to short a time.

Looking up her eyes immediately found her husbands own. His eyes danced with sorrowed apology. Ashamed, he read her thoughts as though she had said them aloud to the world. Three days was not enough and would never be enough.

~8~8~

The Dark One groaned tiredly as he limped up the winding stairs in his home.

Stars twinkled merrily in the ebony, stain heavens by the time Regina left from his manse. Hours had passed under a sea of scribbled forms and files and papers dictating the child's whereabouts and the 'agency' that had delivered him into the town, but finally the deal was struck, the destiny chained to the harpy like a boulder about her neck.

Exhaustion and fatigue weighed heavily upon his bones as he managed to scale the steps even slower than usual with his limp. His mangled knee throbbed more than usual as though his body was punishing him for his beastly acts. Leaning heavily upon the carved mahogany railing from support, all he wished to accomplish now was a hot bath and to crawl into bed with his lovely wife.

Darkness filled the hall as he managed to venture his way through without turning on a light. How difficult would wandering through a black hall be if he had a few children in the house, he pondered. A large grin stole upon his face as he imagined stumbling over toys of forgotten dolls and soldiers and fire trucks.

As he walked fatigued down the darkened corridor, his mind wandered as it often did to his Belle. Remorse plagued every beat of his heart, chastising him in the black corners of his most horrendous thoughts.

Watching his Belle endure the torment of staring at a vile woman such as Regina having a wish come true while she was denied her hearts fervent desire was akin to the most blood chilling tortures concocted. He had seen the agony being lashed upon her and did nothing.

The Dark One involuntarily flinched even recalling the pain dancing in her deep azure eyes as the queen held the child in her arms. Belle stood grievously silent and stared at her enemy taking such a sweet child and claiming him as her own.

Foolish man, he cursed himself roundly, his lips mangled into a snarl. Stooping in the hall he forced himself not to slam his fists to the wall and roar in rage. Belle should not have had to pay a price for his machinations! Why couldn't his choices only torment him and leave her free of pain?

Abruptly, soft notes of song began to drift upon the chilled night air that whispered his dark contemplations. The thoughts of what pain he'd caused his darling wife fled from the fiend's ancient mind as his perked his ears curiously.

A gentle tune wafted through the drafty air, taking any anger he had and banished it away to the far corners of his soul. Carefully he crept to his bedroom door, wondering who was singing.

Dim light slanted under the door, telling him Belle was still up. The brass knob turned with barely a creak as he opened the portal a mere inch to peep in.

His Belle sat upon the edge of their made bed with the child wrapped in her arms. The soft blue blanket swaddled the baby, with a few loose ends dangling from her arms. She rocked from side to side ever so slightly as she sang tenderly to the child.

"For one so young, you seem so strong.

My arms will hold you keep you safe and warm

I will be here to protect you.

I will be here don't you cry.

Cause you'll be in my heart…."

The notes drifted like silk upon the whispering air. Each soft melody in haromny with her gentle voice singing softly to the sleepy child.

Tears, hot and scalding welled in the Dark One's eyes. Her words rang through his ear, touching his soul. Shame surged through him like a deplorable tide. How had he done this to her? How had he all in one day given then taken away what she desired with him; to rear a child for their own?

"Belle." He croaked her name and swung open the door all at the same time.

Her voice drifted off into solemn quiet as she perched her head up.

Limply slowly towards his love, he knelt down by her side. Pain screamed through his knee, but he ignored the wrenching torment. Only the will to see her happy burned like liquid fire through his veins banishing all else from his mind.

His calloused hand stroked her porcelain cheek as he stared up to his darling wife. "If you want to keep the child I will burn those contract hammered out with that witch. Regina can prove nothing and I can have a document forged in a few hours showing the child is mine." He stared deeply into her cobalt depths, his every word sincere. "If you truly want the child, say the word and he shall be ours."

To keep the child as their own would hamper his carefully constructed plans immensely, but how could he go through with dealing with souls and innocent lives when his wife looked so miserable watching a hateful harpy be blessed with a child when she was denied her own. For years she would have to watch the boy be raised by Regina and could say nothing.

"No." Belle replied so low the fiend barely picked up upon her gentle words. She looked towards him, her indigo eyes watery with restrained tears. "You saw Regina today, how she lit up with the child in her arms, how the evil festering in her soul was banished even for a few moments."

Shaking her head she inhaled deeply to control her emotions screaming to recant her words. "I should loathe her Rum, but I pity her. She's so lonely. She has no one, and I…." Lifting a hand to his cheek she smiled. "And I have you." Her voice lowered to a loving whisper. "We will have our family one day, but Henry needs to be with Regina to achieve that goal."

Touched, the Dark One placed his forehead on her arm. Overwhelmed emotion sang through his wiry form. How had he gotten such a loving, understanding wife? He didn't deserve her, and yet she fit his life wholly and completely.

For her to desire a child and yet still pass the golden outpouring for his sake went above and beyond devotion.

"You must promise me one thing." She proclaimed gently, a touch of mirth in her voice.

Rumpelstiltskin tilted his head up letting her cerulean eyes engulf him with their bright beauty. "Anything." He swore breathlessly and grasped her hand, willing to give her the entire world if that was her desire.

"We will have children once you find your son and this curse is shattered." She declared, already knowing that was a promise that would be fulfilled exclaimed or not.

The Dark One nodded, his love for her washing over his entire form. "I promise." He retorted in a solemn oath and kissed her hand sealing his eternal fealty to his beloved.

His lips suddenly twitched into a mischievous smirk befitting the Dark One of old. "The question is how many shall we have?"

"That, husband, remains to be seen." Belle chuckled with a hint of seductiveness. A dour sigh took her thrall quicker than her her sudden mirth. She turned her head back down to the sleeping child, fighting back the sorrow clenched in a burning vice in her heart. "But until then…."

Nodding slowly, the fiend leaned his head upon his wife. "Until then Belle-of-mine, we watch and wait and dream of the day we may have children of our own."

~8~8~

_A/N: I do not own the little song snippet. It's from Tarzan. Also, new chapters might be slow in coming due to Christmas so near! Vacation time! Y'all have a merry Christmas. :3_


	27. It Begins

_A/N: I hope you guys and gals had a wonderful Christmas! I got a new compound crossbow so hunting next year is going to be fantastic! But anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing!_

**~8~8~**

"Hi, Miss French." Henry greeted with a wide grin as he traipsed happily into Gold's Pawnshop.

In ten short years the boy she'd once rocked to soothe his tears and played with to make him laugh when he was nothing more than a squirmy bundle in her arms had grown into a bright, smiling young man. Brown hair in need of a cut fell shaggily about his head matching the brilliant brown of his eyes. Though he did not know it himself, there was an air of royalty hovering about him marking him of some noble birth.

The blue backpack slung about his shoulder, equipped with childish baubles, jangled with each sprightly step and a large, leather bound book that peeped out from the unzipped top of the satchel bounced nearly out of the pack but somehow kept in its compartment. His school uniform was mussed and wrinkled by smears of dirt and grit probably from a bit of horseplay after school.

Closing the antique register, the beauty flashed the child a warm grin as she always did with the boy was about. "Henry, what brings you to the shop today?" She arched a brow slightly. "Trying to find something for your mother?"

Despite her emotions on the matter of placing the young lad into the hands of the sinister sorceress who abducted them from their true home, Regina turned out to be a loving mother to her adopted son. She showed tenderness where hardness entombed her frigid heart, and caring for the only other in Storybrooke who returned her love.

The youngling bit his bottom lips slightly in a way that told the beauty he wouldn't speak all he wished. In all the years she had known Henry, he was never adept at keeping secrets or lying, but nor did he normally wish to. "No, I was wondering if you had any maps." He finally explained quietly.

"Maps?" Belle echoed ponderously. Tapping a singular finger to her chin she stared into space thoughtfully, her mind combing over the now neat shop of the Dark One; nearly void of dust. After a quiet moment she nodded. "I think so. What kind of maps are you looking for?" She inquired; her infamous curiosity pulsed to life like an ember blown by the wind.

Henry shuffled closer to the register nervously and stood on tip toe to look over the glass counter. The dank lighting encompassing the interior of the establishment did little to conceal his excitement he attempted to mask with a casual air. "Around Boston if you think you have one."

"Recent or historic?" The beauty asked, gauging his intentions carefully. With a historic map she could wash the request as nothing more than a school project, but something greater…. No one ever collected maps in Storybrooke, for no one ever went, or could go anywhere save the wilds that efficiently surrounded their sprawling town.

"Recent." He proclaimed a bit too hastily. The boy flinched warily, his eyes hastily searching hers for rousing suspicion, but managed to keep his composure as best he could manage.

Belle nodded dutifully and scurried into the back rooms in search of a map. Once upon a time his request would have been nigh but impossible to achieve without rigorous amounts of searching and combing through hoards of filth ridden trinkets. Rumpelstiltskin usually kept his shop in a worse mess than his home before their relation had grown to wary friendship then husband and wife.

In order to spend more time with one another, the Dark One revised the deal that had only included his home she cleaned and maintained, but his shop as well. Oh her father had raised blood and Cain and threatened hellfire, but with his debts so massive and steep he could only watch helplessly thinking his daughter was being burdened down with more tiring work, chipping away at her life bit by bit.

The backrooms sat filled with brown boxes and chests stacked neatly and organized and labeled diligently to find curios and treasures without delving through the hoards of antiques with only a shovel and a prayer.

Dust sprinkled lightly on the brown boxes, making Belle dot a small reminder in her mind to do a bit of light dusting after Henry departed ways.

"You're in luck, I found one." Belle waved the crumpled highway map victoriously as she reentered the main room in a brisk strut. Dust layered upon the old chart swung motes of grime into the air before they landed upon the counter.

Henry turned away from the globe sitting upon one of the glass display cases and eagerly padded back to the beauty. "Great!" Slipping off his backpack he began to shift through the mess in its contents.

From the corner of her eye, Belle spotted chocolate bars in blue wrappers, trail mix, other maps gathering dust from the one convenient store in Storybrooke, and soda all haphazardly crammed in his backpack instead of school books. Dread welled in the pit of her stomach but she gulped the feeling back and returned Henry's charming smile with a friendly, disarming grin.

Bringing forth a wad of bills and change he laid them upon the table counter hopefully. "How much is it?"

Leaning her elbow on the glass, the beauty inclined forward, her voice little more than a conspiratorial whisper. "I'll make you a deal, Henry." She began slyly and pointed to his safeguarded backpack. "Tell me what you're doing with all the food and directions in your bag and the map is yours, on the house."

"But…but won't your boss get mad at you for giving me free stuff?" The boy inquired worriedly, his lips pulled slightly to the side as though the idea of her getting in trouble left a residual, bad taste in his mouth.

Out of many of the people in Storybrooke, Annabelle French was one who was always nice and kind. No matter the price he shuddered and dreaded the thought of the mean Mr. Gold yelling at his worker for handing out something for free.

Belle laughed gaily, her mirth unable to stay suppressed at the irony of it all. Holding back peals of merriment will a dutiful will she shook her head, her cobalt orbs glimmering. "Don't worry; I can deal with Mr. Gold just fine." She held out her hand. "So do we have a deal?"

Henry stared at her outstretched hand warily. Indecision clouded his boyish features, before disappearing in a gust of bravery and kindred with Gold's servant.

"Deal." He shook her hand eagerly before making certain no one was around.

Belle smiled endearingly to the child as he managed to yank the thick book out of his stuffed backpack. A bar of candy dropped to the floor but the pair ignored the crinkling of paper.

Belle's eyes widened in shock at the tome held in Henry grip. The book was a large thing, a child's fairy tale story book to read younglings at bed time. She fought the urge to run her hand upon the leather. Though she had never thought much of the book, merely a children's tale, nor even opened the tome she had sold the fairy tale book to a one Mary Margaret years and years ago.

A thrill shivered like lightening up her spine and set her nerves afire. Fate was lining up before her, magic in its own way was occurring and weaving its wards and connections like some wise spider to entrap the oblivious ones who could not see what would be wrought.

"I'm going to find a way to break the curse." The lad revealed in a pride laced tone that made Belle's heart jerk in alarm.

Setting the book down gently upon the glass as though it was a sacred relic unearthed from the very bowels of the earth itself, Henry allowed the book loving Belle to inspect the tome.

Those in Storybrooke who were even acquaintances of Annabelle French knew well her fiery passion for books of every sort. Sometimes a person would catch her staring longingly at the boarded up, run down library with a wistful, saddened air and shoulders slumped. Having a library, but not being able to enter to her as having a candy store, but unable to buy any treats.

Skinned in a dark, foreign leather, mayhap even dragon hide, the words 'Once Upon A Time' sat scrawled with gold ink in flourished script upon the cover of the large book. Excitement danced through the beauty gaily as the boy opened the ledger that contained all too real tales from a different land and time.

Why had she not known the tome to be the key, she pondered intensively and stared down at the illustrated pages and scribbled words. Why had she never opened the book to gaze upon its pages of all the books in Rumpelstiltskin's collection? Fate perchance, or mere coincidence?

"I know you probably won't believe me." He paused suddenly, his voice dour as he looked away and bit his lower lip. "No one does, but that doesn't mean it not true." The pall of melancholy vanished quicker than it stole upon the boy as he flipped through the brightly colored pages. "This town is under a curse you see."

"A…curse?" The beauty had little trouble feigning surprise. She blinked owlishly at the excited ten year old pointing out major details as thought he had been there when the entire cataclysmic occurrences had taken place.

Hearing the surprise and incredulity in her voice, Henry stopped his quickly spouted explanations. Wariness and sadness flashed in his brown orbs as he searched her for clues to see just how crazy she had to think him.

Desperately wishing to keep him open and not introverted with his brilliant conclusion, Belle smiled slightly hoping to keep an air of open friendliness. "Does the book have anything about me?"

"Sort of." Henry replied uneasily as though delivering bad news. He bit his lower lip nervously like a child caught guilty. Pages rustled loudly as he flipped thought the book with an untamed fervor until coming to the page he desired. He poked a finger at the pictures that faintly resembled the beauty.

In one photo the picture showed a girl in sumptuous raiment of golden skirts and silks with her hands bound in front of her but head held high. A monstrous creature with toad like flesh and curved horns, and a hunched back covered by a ragged cloak held the other side of the rope as it stomped out of a council room where a portly figure in rich, ermine robes stood doubled over weeping.

Belle fought the deep seeded urge not to gasp at the next photo very vaguely looking akin to herself in the Dark Castle as the Dark One's prisoner. The dress, the ribbon, everything was the same as it had been in the Dark Castle. Even now she could see herself in the same azure dress he had allotted her after her golden ball gown became nothing more than tattered rags.

The blue dyed wool was a simple peasant's wear but far more comfortable than anything she had ever owned as a princess.

The picture showed her pulling down curtains whilst the creature from the first drawing sat hunched over a spinner's wheel clutching at the wood with large dagger like claws.

"In our real world your name is Belle. You're the Dark One's slave because you sacrificed your life to save your dads kingdom." The boy continued warily as he deciphered the pictures, oblivious she already knew them in vivid detail.

How little he knew, Belle wished to inform and proclaim to the boy describing the events her memory would never loose. She had gone from slave to wife; from serving her captor to loving him.

With a firm will, the beauty masked the utter shock to mere curiosity as though humoring a ranting child. "And if this book is correct, my master would be Mr. Gold." She concluded.

"Yeah, but don't worry, the story says he treated you really well." Henry brightened as though giving her a consolation.

Belle's lush pink lips quirked in mirth as she propped her head upon her hand. "Is that so?"

Oh course, Rumpelstiltskin had not been the best master when they'd first lived together. He was a volatile creature with earth shattering temper, but the man she had fallen in love lay behind the surly demeanor and snapping reproach. There was a kind human underneath the gray-gold like skin and he'd proved it many a time.

"Yup." Henry closed the book with a dulled slam. He outstretched his hand hopefully. "So can I have the map?"

Without hesitation, the beauty turned over the rolled up map detailing the roads from the center of Storybrooke to the busy streets and byways of Boston. It wasn't all an explanation, but one she used to confirm her suspicions "A deals a deal." The beauty sighed.

Regret prodded her, but she bit back the urge to renege upon her deal. Destiny had to be done; she could not halt whatever would happen though she wished to keep Henry from harm.

"Thank you, Miss French." The elated Henry bellowed exuberantly. Taking the map he stuffed the paper into his pack before the thick book. The beauty thought for an instant she spotted the gold rectangular plastic of a credit card reflecting in the dank light, but decided sagely not to inquire.

With one last wave, the child heaved the pack over his shoulder and ventured out into the bright, cruel world. His steps were light, but true as though he were own a warriors quest to save a kingdom or slay a rampaging dragon.

Belle watched 'til the boy was well out of sight and even then she remained staring at the last place she'd set eyes upon him. Instinctively she knew when he came back it would not be alone.

"Be safe, Henry." She whispered solemnly before turning back to the register.

~8~8~

Darkness had long fallen over the quaint town of Storybrooke by the time Mr. Gold limped up the steps to his dusky pink manse.

Normally, making the rounds all in one day was a tiring expedition. His car traveled to the border of the salt driven waves where the cannery was established and other minor business' then to the other four corners of the town where the county proper met the woodland fringes and into the heart of the small hamlet itself.

By the time he got back on days when all the rents were due, usually all he desired was a hot meal with his wife, and to fall into bed with her at his side. But not tonight. Tonight his blood gushed like fire flamed through his veins and his heart beat with the strong hammering of a dragon's aorta. All thoughts of slumber were thrown to the wind and forgotten.

His free hand tightly curled over a packet of money given to him by the brusque Granny Lucas who ran the most popular diner in town and the nearly empty bed and breakfast.

He couldn't restrain a gleeful chuckle as a sudden thought. Ironically, the bed and breakfast was empty no longer.

A Miss Emma Swann who returned a runaway Henry had decided to spend a few nights at the only Bed and Breakfast in town. Emma Swann! The Dark One nearly roared the name happily to the ebony firmament in abject elation. The curse breaker had arrived at last!

Before he could fish through his pocket and bring out his keys, the door to his house yawned open.

Belle began to speak her fabulous news wanting to burst from the seams of her soul, but never got the chance. Despite pain that screamed in his maimed knee, Rumpelstiltskin let the ash wood cane clatter to the entryway floor. Slamming the door behind him, he scooped his wife up in one massive hug that belied his jubilation.

"She's here." He whispered into the crook of her neck. Laughter bubbled gaily from his lips as he hugged her tighter letting his Belle's love envelope his exuberating joy. "The curse breaker is here!"

The beauty chuckled as she returned her husbands love with all the joy she could possess in her body. "Well that certainly tops my news. I gave Henry a map to Boston."

Abruptly, the Dark One disentangled his grip from her own. Keeping her at arms length, his warm chocolate brown eyes shimmered in awe. "You gave him the map?"

Belle nodded, nary a word crossing her lips.

For a moment the pair stared quietly at one another. The intense silence lasted for near a minute before the pair burst into peals of laughter at the irony of it all. Perhaps their elation was too great, but the joy in their hearts surpassed any other.

Only a little while longer and they would be back home, their true world, with Baelfire. They would be free of the curses fetters clamped around their ankles and hearts to live open and free as they chose.

"Can you imagine it, Rum?" Belle sighed dreamily and leaned her head upon his pounding chest. "We shan't have to carry this secret we've been stashing away for twenty seven years. We'll be free to do as we please. They'll be no one to tell us no."

The fiend buried his face into his wife's dark amber mane, drinking in the scent of her perfume and loveliness. "Or where to go for that matter." He chuckled sardonically. "A lot of people have been telling me that lately."

The beauty vapidly tilted her head up to look at her husband. Her azure eyes gleamed like sapphires caught in flame as she placed a tender hand to his stubble cheek. "Or say we're only dreaming."

"By the time we are back where we belong, wife. It will be as though we were living in a whole new world." Rumpelstiltskin replied softly, delighting in his wife's gentle touch.

He leaned forward to catch her lips with his own, when she pulled away suddenly.

Amazement flashed in her eyes as she cocked her head to one side like a curious animal. "Listen, Rum; do you hear it?"

Straining his ears, the Dark One listened to the quiet lull in the satiny night. He shook his head confusedly. "I can't hear any-."

Music, gentle and kind drifted into his ears and warmed his soul with joy and life. Without one speck of doubt, he new the foreign melody wafting through the air to be the clock tower.

The soft chimes of the library tower gently pealed through the air as though singing some tune of freedom. In all their time in Storybrooke, never had the clock struck, nor had the bells in its ancient belfry offered song to the cursed of their hamlet.

Jubilation sprang like a fount in his heart. Soon, how he reveled in the word! Soon the curse would be shattered and broken and dead, the wrongs righted to his son, his life whole.

He stroked his wife's cheek with his thumb, his passion for her rearing madly in his veins. "And so the end begins, my Belle."

"Then shall we make use of the time we've left in this world to celebrate, husband?" She inquired longingly. Her hand gripped his own, leading him to the stairs and up to their bedroom.

Ignoring everything else in their world save his darling wife, Rumpelstiltskin followed numbly. A small grin, filled with mischief, played upon his lips. "Indeed we shall, Belle-of-mine." He laughed in a deep rumble taking her into his arms as soon as they entered their room. "Indeed we shall." He echoed lovingly.

For now they would cheer and beam in triumph, for tomorrow there is much work to be done to pave the way of the curse breaker.

Laying her down with the utmost gentleness upon their bed of soft quilts and silken sheets, the pair lost themselves to passion listening to the chime of the bells tolling through the wakening land.


	28. Changed Fate

The silver bell above Granny's diner tinkled with a merry clangor, announcing Belle's arrival in the delicious smelling restaurant. Hungry citizens filled and huddled over every table, booth, and stool in the usual morning rush of people going off to work or simply feasting on Granny's excellent cuisine with friends.

A sleeveless blue dress, stopping right under her knees, fit snugly against Belle's body as she briskly wove her way through the hungry crowd both leaving and going. The mass of ravenous souls, perhaps fearing her on a task from her infamous employer made due haste out of her path, as though she was infected with the plague, 'til she found herself near the counter.

Waving a hand through the air, the lovely brunette hailed her best friend. "Ruby!" She smiled pleasantly, her spirits reveling in the warm summer's day until the heat burst from the inside out.

"I've got the money right here, Hun." The fiery server replied absently as she doled out steaming mugs of rich, black coffee.

Knowing she was on a pick-up errand for the nefarious Mr. Gold, the crowed made more room between themselves and the indomitable woman who worked for the miserable miser.

The exotic Ruby strutted over to the cash register and tapped a few keys to bring forth the stacks of bills. With a flick of her wrist she extracted the envelope of money and presented the payment to the assiduous Belle.

"Thanks, Ruby." The beauty stuffed the packet into her pocketbook. "I'll give the money to Mr. Gold after I have my check-up with Doctor Whale." Trying to sound nonchalant, she added. "By the way, I heard you had to get rid of your new tenant for some minor detail."

The crimson server nodded dourly. "Yeah, Regina dug up so all rule that says we can't have people with a record in our hotel. She was good business, but now she's staying with Mary Margaret."

"Maybe Mr. Gold can help you with that." Belle suggested mildly. From all their machinations they needed the savior to stay in Storybrooke though the Madame Mayor was attempting to drive her away with every plot and scheme. "He's good with finding loopholes."

"Did I hear you say, Mr. Gold?" A new, incredulous female voice inquired suspiciously from behind Belle. Goosebumps danced upon her skin at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. Most every voice, from the gruff Leroy to all the sweet nuns she could identify, but the strangers was a foreign timbre to the cursed Belle.

Turning about, the lovely woman met the hard blue eyes of a fierce blonde in a red leather jacket. A thin, not quite, smile ghosted her stony features as she sized the beauty up with a critical eye.

"I didn't know he had business partners in this town." She finished blandly.

Belle managed a wan smile but shook her amber mane. "I'm not a business partner; I'm his assistant and housekeeper, Annabelle French."

"Is that they're calling it now?" Ruby chipped in angrily. Seeing her friend toiling for the hard hearted Gold with out any way out always made her blood boil in her veins.

"'Assisting' instead of indentured servitude?" Ruby scoffed darkly as she wiped off a coffee stain on the counter.

The beauty shot her friend a reproachful glance before turning back to the scrutinizing new comer. Holding her hand out her tone became amicable. "You must be Emma Swann." She stared to finish with 'Henry's real mother' but stopped just in time to check herself of revealing too much.

Emma stared incredulously at her outstretched palm, a single brow faintly raised. "Yeah, how'd you-."

"Word gets around fast in Storybrooke." Belle parried immediately. She shouldered her purse and shrugged nonchalantly. "Mr. Gold mentioned you the other day, so welcome to our quaint little town."

The savior finally outstretched her hand to shake Annabelle's. "Thanks." She retorted warily, her eyes never leaving Belle's.

For the first time in many years, the beauty felt terror grip her senses. Gold had told her or warned rather, from what he had observed in the past few days, Emma Swann was keen, but she had no notion how keen until that moment. The new visitor was not only inspecting her but she noticed very clearly the pale circle around her finger where Belle took off her wedding ring before heading out into town.

"I hope you enjoy your stay." Belle managed to stammer, flustered before walking out of the diner with her hand curled into a tight fist.

"What's the deal with her?" Emma asked curiously to Ruby as she perched upon an empty stool. On her first night in Storybrooke she immediately warmed to the scarlet waitress who seemed to befriend everyone with ease.

She did not turn to watch the girl, Annabelle, depart, but their was something strange about her to say the least.

Ruby set a large, glazed donut on a saucer before her and shrugged casually. "Anna's an okay girl, some might call her odd, but I've never thought so. We've been friends for a while now."

"No, I mean what's the deal between her and that guy Mr. Gold." The sharp blonde clarified s she bit into the glazed doughty with a vigor.

The way she even spoke his name did not detail a miserable assistant who loathed her job. No, she spoke his name more like a good friend might.

Pity flashed in the waitress' lupine golden orbs. "I wouldn't tell you normally, but since the whole town knows you might as well too before the gossip mongers fill your head with all sorts of crazy things." Putting another pot of coffee on least Granny catch her slacking, Ruby leaned against the counter, toying with the scrap of cleaning rag.

"Annabelle's dad is a flower salesman. To start his business he took out far too big a loan for everything, his shop, truck, flower seeds, you name it he rung it up on his tab. He's a nice guy and harvests some nice flowers, but after the loan he took out it wasn't enough to even begin paying back Gold. When Mr. Gold demanded rent, French couldn't pay. So the old miser was about to close them down and take anything of value from Moe French when his daughter stepped in. She and he carved out a contract for her to work for him until the debt was paid. She works running errands for him and taking care of his huge home and shop."

"Wow." Emma whistled, amazed, respect for the lovely woman growing within. "Tough job." She took another bite of her donut thoughtfully. From what little she had seen and heard of Mr. Gold, to work for him day in and day out must have taken admirable tenacity and patients.

Ruby nodded solemnly, her mouth twisted distastefully. "A lot of people say she has the worst job in the whole town."

Polishing off her donut, Emma jumped down from the stool and wiped her hands on the back of her faded jeans. "You mentioned he had a shop." She stated, never missing a detail.

"Yeah." Ruby nodded and pointed out to the bright, warm day. "It's just down Three Star Avenue to the left and straight on 'til Morning Street."

Swann rolled her eyes, suppressing an amused grin and walked out into the summer's morn, her mind ignoring the amazing coincidence her biological son proclaimed. Yes, the town did have a few note worthy happenstances, but not something to actually think the town was in a curse.

~8~8~

"Well Miss French you're as healthy as ever." Doctor Whale announced and smiled nervously as he plodded into his doctor's office. Leaning against the stretcher in his office he flipped through pages on a clip board chart with an experienced eye. His lips pulled down in a dour frown. "Except…."

Belle shifted uncomfortably in the rigid chair in the anapestic smelling room. Normally she had to deflect from a barrage of cheesy pickup lines and date inquiries from the womanizing Whale.

So far he'd made two fine attempts to ask her out, always the persistent one, but had, thankfully, halted his approach after bringing back her work.

His eyes now fell upon her not like a ravenous wolf to a lamb, but a glassy bleak look that seemed to be his interest in her shriveled to nothingness.

With a sigh, the good physician placed the chart down on a sterile cabinet. He stared in the opposite direction of the beauty, his eyes focused on the blue and white diamond patterned wall paper of his medical office.

"I'm sorry, Annabelle." His voice was a hoarse whisper filling the beauty with icy dread pooling at the bottom of her stomach. "You can't believe how sorry I am for you. I'm sorry I have to give you the bad news…."

~8~8~

"Mr. Gold, I heard you were a man who knows how to get things done around here." Emma declared icily as she stalked into Gold's Pawnshop.

Dust, recently ignored by Mr. and Mrs. Gold alike wafted in motes from the burst of air from the door, making the bounty hunters nose wriggle in irritation. Keeping her composure, she marched to the glass counter where the Dark One nary looked up to acknowledge her existence.

His lips thinned unpleasantly as he took his time counting a slew of diamond in a brown display case. "I have a certain…reputation." He replied casually with a hint of pride. One side of his lips quirked slightly.

She braced her hands against the glass directly in front of the Dark One. Her eyes were like chips of icy stone. "I need to get some hard facts on the mayor."

Guilt stabbed at her slightly for going to the most notorious man in town, but Regina had started it! Her underhandedness had banished her from the town's only hotel, and even got her arrested.

"The mayor?" Gold echoed with a faint of mischief in his accented tone. Stashing the box of diamonds underneath the glass, he perched a brow inquisitively. "What sort of dirt are you looking to unearth now?"

Emma was quick to parry menacingly. "I didn't say dirt."

"Ah, but that's what you meant." He waggled a finger impishly at the blonde. "You want to see if she's a good mother; that there is no dirty little secret at the house of Mills, don't you Miss Swann?"

Growling, the new comer slammed her palm to the glass. "All I want to make sure of is that the kid's safe."

"And you are-."

"R-… um, Mr. Gold." Belle's voice wafted uncertainly upon the air as she slipped into her lovers shop quietly. Her stunning indigo eyes flashed with fear she tenaciously tired to dam.

She jerked her head to the back room as she walked briskly to the counter. "Could I speak with you in the back, please?" Her voice was on the verge of pleading as she ignored Emma Swann who stared ever curious at Gold's assisstant.

Any other instance the fiend would have consented and excused himself, but not when the savior was so close and ripe for manipulation in the purest sense. Such opportunities were rarer than pink pearls from the merfolk.

The Dark One turned his head down, attempting to shake the guilt off and ignore the fear in his Belle's eyes he wished more than anything to soothe. Drumming his fingers against the glass rapidly, he shot her one last glance. "Can it wait, Miss French?" He implored.

"No-." The beauty nearly shouted as panic surged through her form. Before another word could pass the threshold of her lips the brass bell above the shop door jangled with a murderous peal.

All three turned to the door at once to see a balding, corpulent, ragged flower salesmen and a stiff suited deputy garbed in brown with one hand on his weapon charge through the door. Thunder seemed to fuel their footsteps as they barreled inside like death itself.

Fury, hotter than the flames of Tartarus itself, blazed through the somber eyes of Moe French.

Shoving Belle out of his way, as though she were a barrier to block his anger, and into the awaiting, bulging arms of Guy Stone, the former king charge towards the fiend like a fiery comet bent on destruction.

Before Rumpelstiltskin could move for his nearby cane, before he could even reach for the loaded gun strapped under the glass, the meaty fist of Belle's sire hurtled into his face with all the rage a father could muster.

The Dark One fell like a stone as Moe's curled hand made contact to his face. Gold's leg screamed in abject torment as the rotund Moe French hovered over him quivering in sheer rage. The muddy boot of Moe French pressed upon the fiend's maimed knee causing agony to shoot up and down his the mangled appendage.

His fist dripped the businessman's glossy warm blood as he roared like a rabid beast. "You disgusting, filthy bastard! You got my Anna pregnant!"


	29. Understanding

_A/N: This chapter came up a little late. I apologize. I sincerely hope this chapter doesn't suck to bad, I have been sick for the past couple days. Orange juice and ibuprophen have patched me up nicely so yay! Thanks for reading and reviewing, lovlies. _

**~8~8~**

"Papa, stop!" A shriek of fear erupted from Belle's lush pink lips as she tried to rush to the defence of her wounded love. Guy Stone's bulging arms held her like newly forged chains about her form, cruelly denying her access to be by the Dark One's side.

Her heart felt near bursting with dark turmoil and frustrated rage as she could only watch her beloved father inflict hurt beyond compare to her helpless husband.

Moe stared hatefully at the bleeding, shocked Rumpelstiltskin's nary even turning around to acknowledge his daughters tear choked plea of clemency. His entire, large body shook with unbridled wrath only an outraged father could summon as he ignored his only family as though she were some rambling, crazy woman.

When word got out she was with child, Mr. Gold's seed no less, he would be the joke and ridicule of the entire town! His large hands curled into twin fists 'til his knuckles took on a ghastly white pall. Even the very thought made the flower salesmen seethe with pernicious rage. He would be known as the man whose daughter whored herself to the monster of Storybrooke!

"You think because you're the richest man in town you can do whatever you want, and treat anyone how you like!" He roared vehemently toward the writhing form pinned beneath his boot and stuck out a pudgy finger at the fiend. Flecks of ivory foam amassed slightly at the side of his lips as though he were a rabid animal. "I couldn't believe it when Regina contacted me, but I should have seen it sooner! What need would a miserable old soul like you want with a young woman if it wasn't to sate some filthy desire!" A dark curse past his cracked lips as he stomped with all the fury he could summon, on the Dark One's knee once more.

A blood chilling howl of in sheer torment erupted from Rumpelstiltskin's lips as he felt the tender tendons burning with acid fire sluicing to the very bone. His trembling hands reached down to grasp the injured limb, his bloodstained fingers desperately trying to massage the screaming pain away.

Swearing once more, the flower salesmen kicked him in the chest deny even such a small comfort to the Dark One's mangled knee.

Agony wrenched through his form like a wave of torturous magic. His breath came out in hallow ragged gasps as he lay helpless at the hands of her loves father. For the first time in a very long time he wished he still possessed his magic to transform the hulking waste of life and space into a bug. Being under the boot of Moe French made him feel akin to the helpless spinner of old.

"Papa!" The beauty cried aghast at such torment her father elicited on her tormented love. How could he father be so utterly cruel?

Her muscles strained to the point of exhaustion as she struggled vainly in Gaston's massive arms. Tendrils of her dark amber mane wisped wildly through the air as she used every trick to escape his barbaric hold. Trying to break free from his muscled grip was akin to prying a loose the coils of a python from its prey.

Tears sprang to her cobalt depths and she lurched and twisted and attempted with all her will to be break free and be by her husband's side. Sorrow twisted her heart in its bony talons seeing him lying at her father mercy. Her clever fingers dug viciously into the deputy's arms till she could feel him wince beneath her claws and the brown fabric tear beneath her nails.

"Please, Papa, you don't know the whole story." She begged piteously, her word wrangling out in horror. She stood willing to do anything for the pain to be alleviated from her lover if her father would but listen.

Moe turned back to his daughter, his corpulent, face wrenched in sheer, unadulterated fury. "Guy, take her some place safe!" He swiveled back to Gold and spat upon the businessman's writhing form. His face darkened to something cold and sinister Belle had never seen in her father's eyes before. "I'll be along after I teach this wretched monster about taking advantage of innocent women!"

"No! You don't understand!" Belle screamed as the brute deputy began all too happily to haul her kicking and twisting form away.

Her hands groped desperately in front of her as though by some miracle she could reach and touch her love. What would happen to him now that he lay helpless at her father's hands?

The distinct steely lock of a pistol hammer clicked through the air as soon as Guy managed to lift her off the ground and nearly over his broad shoulder like his Neanderthal heritage that burned through his veins. "You're not taking her anywhere against her will." Emma growled to the hulking deputy as she stepped in front of his path; the lone barricade against a giant.

Tilting his head up stupidly as though just registering another presence, Stone stared keenly upon the hard form of Emma Swann. The blonde stood like graceful warrior in the face of a dragon, awaiting glorious battle.

Guy's dull, dark gray eyes narrowed at the challenge. "This is a matter of family." He stated sagaciously as though what he did was proper and completely legal.

"No. It's a matter of law and kidnapping." The blonde rebuffed with a dangerous snarl. She leveled the gun at Guy's thick head with a perfect shot aimed for the middle of his skull. Her mouth was one grim line as she squeezed the trigger slightly ready to unleash the bullet into his dense skull. "I may have no idea just what's going on, but I can see she wants to stay. If she doesn't want to go, turn her loose."

"She wants to be away from this…this…beast." Moe interjected resolutely, his face a stony picture of rage. Meeting Anna's eyes for the first time since the encounter, he stared at her deeply. "Don't you, Anna?"

The beauty tossed her dark, amber mane and continued her valiant struggle to wrench free of Gaston's viselike clutches. "No, Papa, I want to stay." She replied willfully without a hint of doubt.

"You heard her." Emma motioned to the brute that stood like a mountain practically heaving with wrath at the beauty's proclamation. "Let her go."

A quiet, tense moment pulsed heatedly through the shop. Danger and disaster hung by a spilt hair on the cusp of shattering into tragedy. Deputy and bounty hunter stared loathsomely at one another, doing silent battle with their eyes. If he disregarded her would she truly shoot?

After as brief, instance in the span of time Guy begrudgingly relaxed his muscle bound arms. Gingerly planting Anna upon the ground, the brute rudely shoved the beauty towards the glass counter. "Fine." He snapped in a snarl of disgust. "Take your slut, Gold."

Belle bounded from his grip as though free from the clutches of death towards her defenseless husband. The words of Gaston evaporated away like mist to the summer sun. Nothing he could say would ever effect her so, with her love near and in peril.

Her heart swelled for her love like a tide. She would even fight her father to see her love, her Rum out of pain.

Before she should slip behind the counter, the deplorable flower salesmen stopped her progress. He held his hands outstretched imploringly, his tone pleading and vaguely confused. "Anna…what are you doing. I'm saving you from this monster."

"You don't understand." She protested stoically, her voice low and fraught with sorrow that glimmered in her azure depths.

How could she possibly tell him all that had happened betwixt them whilst she was a prisoner and slave? Proclaiming she'd been married for 27 years would more than likely get her hauled to the hospital for a psyche evaluation. And to claim that she loved him? Would her father even believe such a truth declared from every inch of her bright soul?

In an instant, the haggard Moe French's demeanor of pernicious wrath faltered and wilted like a flower touched by the tongues of winter frost.

The anger upon his face crumpled to pain and concern for his only daughter. He took her delicate hands in his huge, thorn calloused grip that had been toughened by years of working plants. "Why didn't you tell me, Anna? You didn't have to let him do these abhorrent things to you. Let me lose my shop, let me lose everything to keep your virtue."

He shook his head as though the weight of the revelation was truly just coming to bear upon his senses. Astounded beyond viable reason, he murmured aghast. "All these years. The hell he's put you through. You don't have to stay any longer."

"Papa." Belle took a deep, wavering breath, steeling herself. "I'm staying with him."

"But you don't have to stay!" Her father's phlegm ridden voice rose slightly. His blubbery face reddened like a beet as though he'd been on a drinking binge. "You don't even have to keep-."

"I will keep my child!" Screamed the beauty violently. Rage, hot and untamed flared to life within the very core of her soul and heart. Her father stumbled a step back, unable to dash away the surprise by his daughter outrage from his flabby face.

There was not many times where Belle became fierce. She was a woman of quiet, tender intellect who won from guile and brilliance, but let it never be said she did not have a streak of anger. Fury blazed like a phoenix through her heart, tumbling from her mouth like a flow of lava.

She pointed a clever finger to her chest, her indigo eyes blazing like blacksmiths forges. "The child is mine, as well as his! I am not ashamed of the pregnancy, nor will I try to deny who the father is."

"You risk embarrassment to yourself!" Moe roared furiously and pounded a fist to his chest so hard it might have cracked bone. "You risk embarrassment and public ridicule to me!"

Belle seethed darkly, her heart hurting inwardly for her dear papa. "You did that yourself." She replied cuttingly and stepped away.

The former king stood still as stone staring at the spot where his daughter once stood. His jaw tightened and shoulder stiffened as he spat on the floor. "Whore." He sneered loud enough for all to hear.

Belle could not suppress a flinch but did nothing to confront his hateful words that pierced the very tender flesh of her soul. Neither Arrows nor bullets alike could injure her so much as her dear papa's hatefully spoken heart.

Without another word, Moe stomped out of the Dark One's pawnshop with the towering brute Guy behind him, still smoldering with anger.

The deputy's steps resounded hard about the shop. His one chance to finally claim Annabelle and she'd chosen to stay with the monster that had bred her! Perhaps, he pondered with as much thought as his tiny mind could gather, she truly was insane as those spoke long ago.

"Ray!" Belle breathed his false name worriedly and knelt by his side. Her mind dismissed all others save her husband who lay injured by the only other man she loved.

Blood oozed in crimson rivulets from his face as he shifted groaned groggily, lost in a sea of torment. Moe's brutal abuse of his injured leg had conjured his mind to black out once or twice with every hard dig into his maimed appendage. His dark eyes fluttered opened slowly to view his wife looming over him worriedly with his head in her lap.

Warm tears fell upon his brow as she stroked his face tenderly. Leaning low, she gently pressed a kiss to his forehead. How after all the years together were their lives marred? Change that occurred in Storybrooke was mostly good, and yet was their destined to be horrid at every turn?

Emma's eyes sat riveted to the door whilst the pair of anger men departed in a storm of frustration and anger down the walk. Once she was certain all that remained was their horrid cologne and the smell of old beer and soil, she quickly holstered her gun and all but jumped behind the counter to inspect the injured Gold.

Kneeling down by his leg, the blonde rolled up his suit leg to inspect the abused knee. Swelled, angry red flesh and blood met her gaze as she pried up the fabric. Pinkish upraised scars from long ago had burst and reopened in some ugly mismatch of old and knew wounds that oozed from his flesh.

"Do you guys need an ambulance or something?" She asked stoically to keep her stomach from churning and gingerly and expertly examined the fiend's knee.

"No…." Gold stammered in protest. Attempting to sit up, he hissed in pain and squeezed his chestnut orbs shut tightly as his maimed knee clamped down in agony. Spurts of blood squirted through the air as though protesting his every move.

Belle pressed a hand to his heated, haggard cheek making him turn to her. Uncaring Emma was present she spoke tenderly to her love. "You need an ambulance."

"I don't want to leave you alone." He opposed weakly, though his knee felt as though it had been crumpled to splinters. Even when his knee had been pierced by an arrow in the Ogres Wars the pain was not so great as the agony throbbing up and down his leg and thigh. "You're father might come back and do something…unsavory."

Darkness of old abruptly skittered across his timeless heart. Oh but if something…anything happened to his Belle, his one and only….The fiend curled his hand into a fist, his own pain temporarily banished from his mind like nothing more than smoke upon the wind. If her father dredged up any vengeful plot then the days of old as the cruel, beastly Dark One would look like a ill tempered child at play compared to what he'd do to King Maurice.

"I'll be fine." The beauty managed a false grin that dissipated quicker than she could summon up a spattering of unsure promise. She curled her hand around his tightly, sending her love through the tender touch. "I'll close up shop then go straight home until Whale gives me a call."

Emma interjected hopefully. "I'll go check up on her later if it'll make you feel better." She offered, her eyes pinioned worriedly upon his crumpled, swelling knee. A pool of crimson dripped upon the dust ridden floor making a sizable puddle that foretold a serious blood lose problem if he didn't receive medical attention soon.

A brief look of indecision darted across the Dark One's like a gray cloud. Nodding her motioned his head slightly to the back. "Alright. There's a phone in the back, Miss Swann, if you'd be so kind…."

Dutifully, the savior trotted off, leaving the secret couple alone for a few precious minutes.

Ignoring the gray tinged motes of dust clogging his throat and even the incessant pain that throbbed violently in his injured limb, Rumpelstiltskin lifted a hand tremulously to his wife's smooth belly. His chestnut eyes tilted upward in awe, finding her glimmering orbs shining upon him like twin blue moons.

"Is…is it true…?" He whispered in loving astonishment. "Is my…our child?"

Tears brooked through the dust upon Belle's porcelain cheeks as she nodded slowly. Blue of the purest sapphire glimmered brightly in her orbs as she replied so quietly only he could hear. "Yes, Rumpelstiltskin. Our wish finally came true."

Claws of darkness that desired to drag the fiend in the realm of unconsciousness once more blurred her lovely face in his eyes. With the last of his cognitive thought, the fiend wearily lifted her hand to his mouth. Struggling to stay conscious he pressed his lips to her hand in a joyful, warm kiss that over came even his pain before sweet oblivion took him thrall.

~8~8~

The solemn peal of the door bell tolling in alert to visitors at the door made Belle jump as she halted her worried pacing. Anxiousness prickled her skin making Goosebumps dance upon her flesh as the sound frightfully assailed her ears.

True, Whale had called to see how she was faring with the news, and the excitment for the day, but Belle had been little more that snipped and crisp with the towns best known physichian. Despite what he may deny, she knew from her father's words he had slipped the news to Regina who some how told her father.

All in town knew Anna's grueling schedule contained no time for dating, and rumors had been circulating about them since anyone could remember. Putting two and two together would have been simple enough for the cruel hapry and making her father believe the same would have been laughably easy and far to juicy to let it go unspoken in the tiny hamlet of Storybrooke.

Of course along with Whale's half hearted concern, the good doctor calmly reassured the beauty, her loves injury was no more than a very painful break of skin and a nasty contusion. Even still, Belle couldn't help but worry without her husband by her side.

For the first time in their marriage they would not share a bed. The beauty shivered violently even at the unpleasant thought of the coldness of their nest of blankets and sheets and rolling over to not feel his wiry form ready to hold her like the perfect piece to a puzzle.

Lady and the sleepy Bandit ears twitched slightly, but neither even emitted a low growl of warning at the hard, urgent knocks. Emma, Belle knew immediately, a feeling somewhat like security engulfing her worrisome frame.

As the knocking grew louder and more pronounced, the wary beauty padded quickly to the door. Expertly undoing the myriad of steel locks, she swung the door open ready to assure the new comer and send her on her way.

"Why didn't you tell me!" An unexpected Ruby demanded as she huffed and puffed into Mr. Gold's pink manse like a force of nature hell bent on destruction and terror.

One painted hand fiercely gripped a metallic black can of pepper spray while the other was armed with a pink tazer in her readiness to do battle less the fiend be freed from the hospitable early. Her odd golden eyes were narrowed like some feral creature on the prowl of hunters.

In the kitchen, Belle could hear the two dogs whine piteously and scurry to the back of the house as though a rabid predator had entered their house. Though she could not, they could most certainly smell or sense what Ruby truly was beneath the lush form and silky mane streaked with carnelian.

Emma slipped in past Ruby like a guilty child caught in some frowned upon mischief. Her face flushed with abject embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, Annabelle. By the time I finished unpacking my stuff at Mary Margaret's, Ruby tracked me down in a rabid frenzy. Turns out that mountain of a deputy spread the news once they left."

"Yeah, and now it's like wildfire out there with some other unscrupulous, graphic details he put in." The scarlet server deadpanned as she all but invaded Mr. Gold's antique ridden home. She stomped from room to room like some murderous behemoth on a blood thirsty quest. "So first things first, tell us where the suitcases are so we can get you out of this crypt, then where the bleach is so we can ruin all those expensive suits."

Belle's shoulders drooped tiredly, unable to halt her friends revenge filled frenzy with the most possible haste. The day had already been filled with turmoil and excitement and happiness, what she did not need was a destructive Ruby.

"It's not what you think." Belle protested, fatigued, her voice unable to sound convincing.

The exotic Ruby paused in her tracks in front of the main hall. For the first time since her angry entry she looked concerned for her best friend. Now that the word was out, why didn't she see her golden opportune to flee from the clutches of Mr. Gold?

"Why didn't you tell me he was making you do these things, Anna?" She asked, her voice hoarse as though learning her friend was not all she seemed and some dark, shameful secret lurked beneath her cheerful demeanor. She took a step towards her friend confusedly. "Gold would probably never allow us to let you work at the diner, but I and Granny would have let you and your dad stay at the hotel free of charge. Anna, I don't know what to believe. Some say he's been doing this to you all along, other say it was to torment your father, and believe me there are far, far more dirty rumors circulating and I've heard them all."

Closing her eyes tightly, the beauty shook her head with the last reserve of strength she maintained. "He didn't force me to do anything. I wanted to do them." She looked to her best friend imploringly, silently begging her to understand. "I love him, and I have loved for a very long time now."

An incredulous looked marbled the blondes face as she stared incredulously at the beauty. She crossed her leather clad arms, her inner thoughts troubled. Why, despite what the situation appeared on the surface did she believe the woman? Certainly love could not bloom betwixt such delicate beauty and a horrid beast?

"How can you possibly think you love him?" Ruby retorted, in a rare moment almost lost for words. "Has he tried not to keep it under a cloak of darkness, sequestered in shadow?"

"He has!" Belle shouted, her mind at its wits end. Unthinking she jerked at the golden necklace that held one item she always kept dear.

Light in the dim manse reflected gaily off the diamond of a gorgeous engagement ring. That, Belle always kept upon her person, and if any one noticed, which they never had, she was ready with a reply the beautiful stone had once belonged to her mother.

The prisms of the modest diamond glimmered obliquely with the colors of the rainbow. A band of gold was ready to encircle her finger, and the diamond itself was crafted to look like a blooming rose by some feat of craftsmanship.

Staring at the stunning ring, Ruby was truly struck speechless. Even Emma seemed enthralled by the gem dangling upon the golden cord. "Is that…." The crimson server stammered her lupine eyes wide.

"Yes." Belle couldn't help keep the pride out of her voice though she knew imperatively she was potentially treading dangerous ground. "We're to be wed."


	30. Combating the Whispers

Astringent odors and sterile fumes mingled uneasily with the sharp scent of alcohol through the cool reused air as Belle stoically marched through the sliding doors of the brick work hospital. Though the hospital looked a harmless, renovation needed building, to the beauty entry was as treacherous as braving a den of ravenous jackals.

The pleasant chill inside the warped, aged building was a hearty welcome to the sweltering heat that blazed upon the accursed hamlet. Brightly colored red, white, and blue Independence Day banners and streamers crafted at the elementary school hung gaily from the walls and swung upon overhangs with a festive cheeriness. Colorful fliers for small town park picnics and the home town parade lined the announcement board declaring the festivities to be enjoyed in a few days. The drab, melancholic air of the building tacked with brightly hued decoration inside the abhorrent facility seemed to her as makeup painted upon a rotting corpse.

Excitement thrilled energetically through the small county yet tenaciously eluded the dour beauty. While Belle normally adored the celebration, always attempting to lure her surly love to the gatherings against his will, the day's past events still lugubriously plagued her mind. Knowing her Rum lay with grievous wounds inflicted by her own father, dampened the roaring fames of her normally vivacious demeanor and did little to bolster and rouse her tumultuous spirits through the mire that swamped her cheerful soul.

Her clever fingers gripped her black leather purse in a chocking vice as she took a deep breath to steady her quivering nerves thrumming with nervousness. Squaring her slender shoulder, and lifting her head tall and proud, the russet haired beauty marched with a lofty confidence that seemed far more than what her strength truly measured.

Her thin heels clicked in a sharp, solitary tattoo that rang through he ears like a poignant rap of Deaths scythe tapping upon the floors and stalking the halls.

Low muted tones of sick or awaiting patients halted to a deathly stillness akin to forgotten graveyard as Belle marched inside the dreary, tiny waiting room. Sick children and injured citizens alike all stared unashamedly as though she were some unearthly specter wandering the halls.

Face neutral and gorgeously smooth from emotion, the beauty kept a calm veil, forcing herself not to wince at the agonizing silence that hounded her every eerily pronounced step like rabid wolves.

Everywhere she trod the gossip engorged citizen of Storybrooke stared unabashed as though she were some foreign curios brought to their boring county. There was no decorum, no politeness for the lover of Mr. Gold. No, the scandal that rocked the very core of the small, secret ridden shire was far to deep for such petty things as manners or considering her feelings.

Silence and stares, conjured either of pity or hate, trailed her like hunting demons of the trek of a lost soul. They no longer saw Annabelle French, the unfortunate girl who labored dutifully for the monster of Storybrooke. They saw Annabelle French, the girl who bedded Mr. Gold and carried his spawn in her belly.

The quiet seemed the worst to the beauty who endured the scornful heat of their eyes that sat riveted to her slender frame. In the tense quiet her lively imagination ran wild with the dark rumors and black conjectures that surely milled through their minds hungrily.

The popular gossip and favored theory for the day, whispered he had dragged her to his bed and threatened penury to her and her father if she didn't bare him a child.

At least, Belle thought inwardly keeping her eyes straight ahead as a bit of her optimism poked through the deluge of sorrow, the popular talk wasn't as revolting as it had been a few days ago. She tactfully subdued an icy shiver that slithered up her spine even thinking of the disgusting rumors that had involved leather studded whips and choking collars.

Walking by them as though they were less than ants scurrying about her heels, the beauty talked in forced, casual tones to the wide eyed white clad receptionist. "I'm here to see Mr. Gold." She announced strongly, her voice with a hint of the anxious that wracked her form.

She flinched slightly as whispering voices murmured behind her like faraway thunder. Only the thought of seeing her Rum and being alone in his hospital room, away from the eyes that burned to her skin, restrained her from swiveling about and screaming at the folks of Storybrooke who feasted and gluttonously stuffed themselves upon the dirt of others lives.

Wordlessly, the shocked, hard faced nurse passed her a slip of paper that allowed her entry. As their hands met, the nurses bleak, gray eyes fell to the diamond rose wrapped about the beauty's finger like a vulture that spotted a rotting carcass.

The cold receptionist thin lips pursed shrewdly, openly judging the beauty with unveiled distaste. Of course she would draw her own conclusion, but soon the news would be out anyway, Belle surmised seeing no need to hide her ring any longer.

Just by looking into her eyes, the beauty could see the wheels in her mind turning and fathoming conjecture to relate to others. There would be more gossip by the time she was at his door, of that she was certain.

Clutching the paper pass as though it were gold, the beauty held the precious slip close to her chest as she walked down a long, white painted corridor. How her heart sang! To finally see her Rum after the long cold nights alone without his warm touch lifted her spirits upon wings of joy. So long with him, to be without was akin to being in her dungeon of old.

Days she had been bereft of his tender, quipped word or soft, tender kisses that proclaimed his eternal love and devotion. But soon, she held to the word like life itself, soon he would be released and they would tenaciously wade through the decisions, brought forth by the tiny life inside of her, together.

"Belle." Rumpelstiltskin smiled eagerly as the door creaked opened revealing the beauty's lithe form. Her hair was bound behind her in a blue ribbon like the Belle he'd known in the dark, faraway halls of his dreaded citadel, bringing a bit of secret joy to his dark, lonely soul.

The drab, sterile room looked the same from the last time he'd been admitted to the hospital. An I.V bag dripped clear fluid into his left arm; all the while a heart monitor beeped its steady, sharp rhythm.

The crisp linen rustled loudly under his wiry bulk as he sat up fully, happy to receive his love and dot upon her with attention and ardor and kisses. Even neck deep in pain killers and other meds to make him fall into some form of sleep, being away from her had been the most restless night he could remember in decades.

He missed the faint, lingering scent of honeysuckle that clung to her peach tones flesh, loosing hours staring deeply into her soft azure orbs that seemed to glow in the darkness, and even the rebellious tendrils of her dark amber mane which tickled his face when he held her close.

Being away from his Belle was a pain no doctor could mend or poultice could soothe. She and she alone could connect his heart back as one and cure his ills of soul and longing.

"How are you?" He smiled softly whilst she padded toward him. His calloused hand pressed against her stomach softly as though greeting the tiny life sleeping inside. "How's the little one?"

The beauty grinned loving down upon her husband. A small, all suffering giggle escaped her lips. "Same as yesterday and the day before. Honestly, Rum it's been a few days; I'm not even showing a hint."

"I just want to make sure." He crooned deeply in his pleasant accent. "I want all the details; I want to be their every minute for you and our child."

Sliding into a stiff blue chair placed by his bed, Belle stared face level with her injured husband. The rough, growing scruff upon his face was flecked slightly with a few silver hairs that made him look dashingly in his own glorious way. A bit of steely gray tinged the very fringes of his hair at the temples, but she never minded.

She curled her hand about his rough calloused own, her eyes aglow with concern. "And all I want is good news about your knee."

The doctor assured them both that damage wasn't as horrendous or even that serious despite the ugly scars and the blood loss. He oft used the word 'lucky', but neither he nor she felt lucky. Her father assaulted her love and the whole town knew why.

The devious Dark One brushed her knuckles with a solemn kiss. "Good news then. I'll be going home today." He chuckled slightly at a sudden thought. "Who needs magical healing potions when you have morphine?" The flare of mirth dissipated from his straggly face as he sighed knowingly. Even though he was exuberant his love was with his child, there was no denying the problems that arose from such facts. "So what's the damage now that the words out?" He asked tentatively.

Her brow knit furtively in surprise and confusion. "How did you know?" She had decided when he'd first been taken not to concern him with the rumors until he was well enough, though now it seemed the voices even went so far as to people with little contact to the outside world.

His lips curved into a wry grin. "The assistant or Mr. Gold, expecting child with her employer known for his avarice and calloused cruelty." A huff tumbled gruffly past his thin lips. "After that stunt your father pulled I would be more surprised if the word wasn't out."

"There's more." Belle remarked nervously. Her heart throbbed against her bosom as her husband stared at her. His chocolate brown eyes remained calm but with alarm flecking the panic he could not conceal.

Of course this hadn't been the place she deemed to relate her rash actions. The last thing she desired was to add to his burdens of worry and recovery, but hiding what she'd said to Ruby and Emma would be like trying to stop the tide from creeping upon the ragged shore.

"It's a whole big mess, Rum." She breathed tiredly. Running a hand through her thick mane, she dredged the last of her flagging courage. "Ruby came by and the gossip was an inferno and I…I…I told her we were to be married." She blurted bashfully.

Part of her wished to curse herself for her impetuous foolishness. How had she been so stupid simply to appease the blood crazed Ruby? Tilting her head down, the beauty stared at the white tiled floor. Shame crept over her like thick fog rolling into the dock.

The Dark One lifted his wife's chin in his her stare into his warm chestnut robs. "I could have done no better." He commended, his tone laced with pride. "At least that helps a little."

"What does it help, Rum?" Belle queried at her wits end, her mind lethargic and strained from the days trying to simply get by with the knowledge of what was to be. What did telling people of a marriage to be that had already occurred more than two decades ago bring?

"We no longer have hide our love like some shameful secret." He explained gently. His hand stroked her porcelain cheek. "To think, we no longer have to pretend we are nothing more than employer and employee. I can finally give a real wedding to my beloved."

True, their first wedding had been lovely and intimate, but they'd often talk of a second wedding where they no longer had to hoard their feelings into the crevices of their hearts and pretend they did not love with all their soul.

Belle snuggled as best she could beside him, reveling in the feel of his flesh. "I doubt my Papa will find the news uplifting." She remarked; her mouth pulled to one side dourly.

Imagining her wedding had been a day dream she fancied when she was younger when the scant few books in her father court had lost their appeal. Of course her fantasies of white carriages and alabaster doves were nothing more than children's notions but having her father walk her down the isle was a dream she never doubted until the day she knew her love was the Dark One.

Her father would rather curse her name now and scorn her growing child than even give an inkling of consideration to walk her down the isle and give her away. He would reject his grandchild now and the mother as though she was not blood of his blood.

"We'll deal with him another time." Rumpelstiltskin purred lovingly in her ear to mask the truth in his words.

Moe French may have been his loves very own father, but no one assaulted the Dark One even in their new word and thought to go by unscathed.

A sad smile etched upon her lips as she leaned into his rough touch she craved. "And yet, I can't help but think…."

"Think what?" He inquired curiously, slightly worried she'd caught the intention in his timbre. For once in the time he had been admitted the Dark One cursed the cord in his arm denying him the right to hold her tightly and soothe her worries.

"Now that things are changing and we have a child on the way, I wonder if Regina is scheming up some foul devices, or my Papa, or Gaston, or anyone who hates you." She admitted desperately and placed her head upon his arm.

By now, the harpy had to know or at least surmise Emma's purpose in Storybrooke, and what she would do if given the chance. The wicked monarch would know immediately her plans had not been her own in the very beginning with such a catch as Emma Swann put into the clause of breaking the carefully constructed, powerful curse that abducted them.

Even if the Madame Mayor was too busy to weave more plans to seek revenge upon the wily Rumpelstiltskin, that did not leave off others who would seek to ruin their happiness. Her father was still a proud, haughty man despite his failing business and debt. Now that his pride was sullied he would let the matter stew and boil in his heart, ruining his kind nature.

Darkness marred the fiend's rough features in a streak of anger. "No one will harm you or our child, Belle." He snarled possessively feral in a heart bound oath. Be they man or wife or master and slave, Belle would always be his to protect and keep.

For a moment he looked akin to the beast of old, dangerous and snapping before the pure fury relaxed from his face. Decades ago his wrath was not so easily quelled and the fire not so quickly doused from his heart, but Belle… his Belle made the waves of his temper recede and his anger to cool to smolder embers.

"The Dark One is still very possessive of his things, I see." Belle teased good naturedly to settle the last of his rage.

Rumpelstiltskin flashed a mischievous grin of old that nearly made him seem the man covered in gray-gold scales. "You are beyond mere 'things'." He whispered softly and treaded his wiry fingers through her russet mane. "Things I can lose, I can break, and I can barter away. For you, I would give away all else to keep, even my heart."

"Your very heart, oh mighty Dark One?" She inquired coyly, a brow arch.

He nodded slightly and leaned to kiss her, but only touched her forehead with his own. "In an instant." The fiend assured her then uttered a low chuckle before his lips neared her own. "Though I'd have to ask you for it back before I could trade it away."

~8~8~

"Hey Moe, I heard your business was doing better!" A young voice jeered from behind the portly former king. Teens on bikes milled about the dusty dusk in the trailer park laughing raucously at the embarrassment of the entire town.

The surly French stared straight ahead at his dumpy trailer in a stoic, stony silence as he waddled up the rickety set of stairs leading to his trashed home. His thick arms were laden with paper bags that clinked with mostly jostling beer bottles as he dug into his pockets and fumbled for his key ring to be inside and free himself of his snapping tormentors words.

The cruel teens laughed all the louder at the target for their ridicule and scorn; foolish, debt buried Moe French whose daughter was the talk of the town.

His thick fingers hastily prodded keys into the lock to no avail as the voice taunted and leered at his bumbling and silent rage. "You've been working so hard when to think all you had to was get your daughter to lie on her back for Mr. Gold!"

A silent curse tumbled darkly from Moe's thick lips as he forced the door open and entered his trailer with the unrelenting salvo of cruel laughs at his back. With a roar of frustration and hate he slammed the door shut, trying to block the taunting voices.

Leaning his forehead against the cool door he attempted to gather himself. Day in and day out he was subject to the dirty stares and head shaking as adults pondered how he had gone wrong with rearing his child that she would seek the arms of Mr. Gold.

Darkness engulfed his ragged home like a shroud as he blindly laid down his hefty burden of groceries. Fumbling for the shade-less lamp light, the flower salesmen clicked the switch. In mere moments the brightness revealed a neat figure garbed in a sharp pinstripe suit standing in the dark shadowy recess of his home.

Rumpelstiltskin's gold handled cane hissed like some vile serpent dismally through the air before colliding with Moe's rotund face. Bone crunched beneath the violent blow that sent the corpulent flower salesmen reeling backwards into an inescapable corner.

A piteously squeal like a mouse caught by a starving cat burst from his lips as he crumpled in a large, pained heap to the ground. His eyes, dancing with black and blue spots, adjusted slowly to the dismal raggedness of his trailer. A gasp of terror escaped his mouth as he stared at the dangerous figure of Mr. Gold blocking his way to freedom.

"Gold." He stammered frightfully. His eyes were wide as moons as the fiend pointedly limped a few feet to the surprised French. His steps were far slower than usual but there was no deny his presence like the haunt of death had entered the filthy trailer.

A look of cold fury lined the Dark One's rough, human face as he loomed like an angry beast over the helpless Moe French. His black gloved hands curled over the bloodied hawk nosed hilt of his cane as his eyes bored holes into the flower salesmen's balding skull. Darkness, frigid and copious, flecked his hard, brown eyes. For a moment there was no Mr. Gold, there was only the notorious Dark One of old.

"Did you honestly think I wouldn't come to pay back what you did to me in my own shop, to avenge what you called your own daughter; the mother of my child?" Rumpelstiltskin asked in an icy, calm tone that betray a mere fraction of his pernicious rage.

His words were akin to a sliver of cold steel that sliced and slashed through the flower salesmen soul. Moe raised his quaking, tubby hands desperately, his voice stuttering with pleading and terror. "I…I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me…please…you've taken enough from me, my self respect, my livelihood, my daughter, what else do you want? Just take anything else if it will spare me."

"Take?" The Dark One echoed the word in a mocking low timbre akin to a loathsome growl. Shaking his head slightly a devious thin grin twitched upon his lips as he cocked his head slightly to the left. "I'm not here to _take _anything. I'm here to give you a gift; my wedding gift to Anna, rather." He corrected promptly.

The flow salesmen blinked dumbly at talk of the wedding rumor that whispered through the desolate town. A bright spark of relief and promised and confusion flashed in his blood shot orbs. " Give me what…?"

"You're life." The fiend retorted devilishly. His grin dissipated as though it had never been only to be replaced with a snarl of pure fury. "Be grateful I will not steal the miserable breath in your body and the beat in your heart." On an off note, he added sincerely though his tone was blacker than a devils heart. "Although you might wish I had."

A scream of abject horror erupted from Moe French's bleeding mouth as the maniacal Dark One lifted his ash wood cane once more. The gold from the hawk nose of the cane glinted in the fallen shade-less lamp light as he brought the blunt object down again and again and again without remorse upon the exposed, soft flesh of Belle's father.

Blood spurted like a morbid fount as the fiend bashed away barbarically at the helpless Moe. With each vicious blow the Dark One reveled at the snap and crunch of fingers and bones crumbling into horrid masses of pulp and skin, the squelch of blood, and the give of flesh tearing to bring forth the rivers of bright carnelian. The blood felt like warm summer rain that flecked upon his face as he made certain the cur would never forget what he had done to the Dark One and the pain such actions warranted.

His words howled out like a rabid wolf. "You had her love, and you tossed it away! She wanted her father in her life and yet you rejected her! You've made her unhappy and that_ will not_ be tolerated!" The screams for mercy that would never come were music to his ears as he roared above the pleas. "If you ever look at my Belle the wrong way again I will do more than just put you in the hospital. I will put you in a coffin while you still breathe." He sneered wrathfully.

His breath heaved out of his form as he lofted the cane up once more. Blood dripped from the gory, golden handle and soaked the dark, rich wood with the crimson essences that dribbled down its haft.

With the last lash of cruelty, the fiend stabbed the cane at the father of Belle, pinning him like a bloodied bug. The flower salesmen gasped piteously as the end of the cane pressed against his throat denying his gurgling body breath.

Staring down at the blubbering, cowering salesmen, he snarled viciously, his voice all but a whisper. "She is mine forever! Never, ever forget to who she belongs for as long as you live."

"I promise, I promise." Moe sobbed raggedly as best her could from betwixt his broken teeth and bleeding mouth and lack of air.

Satisfied, the Dark One let the bloodied cane fall calmly to his side as though he hadn't just beat a man to the point of unconsciousness. Digging into his blood splashed pocket, the fiend carelessly dropped a useable phone down in the warm pool of crimson and tears near the broken French.

He huffed a dark, sinister laugh and turned away callously from his victim, enjoying the sound of his pathetic painful whimpering like a beaten dog. "If I were you, Mr. French I would call the ambulance and report a fall." With that last silent threat, the feind limped painfully from the home leaving Belle's wedding gift of her father's life in a bloodied heap grasping desperately at a disposable phone with his gore slicked hands and only a scrap of consciousness.

A smile dashed across the lips of the Dark One as he stepped out into the cooling dusk. Straightening his suit, the fiend happily limped away from the pitiful trailer of Moe French. Now that he had made certain the cretin would never dare seek vengence, he had a wedding to plan with his love.


	31. Arresting Joy

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing you wonderful, awesome people! The writers block bat has been beating me to a black and blue pulp as of late . Anyway, enjoy!_

**~8~8~**

Finally, after what seemed a long winding road, the future appeared bright and prosperous to Rumpelstiltskin.

A cunning, cocky smirk drew upon his roughened face as he busied himself in the front of his deserted shop. An old, gray apron wrapped about his front to protect his silken ebony suit from splotches and stains as he bent to his tasks. He worked a scrap of greasy yellow rag, stained with polish, against a few delicate antique silver pieces as he basked in the brilliant satisfaction that cascaded over him like warm sun rays.

A surge of pure delight shuddered pleasantly through his wiry form. He suppressed the urge to let forth a high pitched giggle of the old Dark One as he worked the tarnish off the silver from their old realm with small circular motions. He was out of the hospital with his knee on the mend, a child grew in his darling wife's belly, they were finally to be mated in a weeks time without keeping the knowledge adumbrate, and slowly but surely the pieces for breaking the curse were falling into place.

Already, the comatose Charming, known in their accursed province as David Nolan had reawakened from his unresponsive slumber. Now back in the arms of his 'wife', granted to him by vile means of the curse, his passion was raising once more for his love Mary Margaret though the devious Regina was pursing all in her power to dash their bonded love once more.

Her utter loathing for the pair, whose happiness could not be torn asunder even from the despicable clutches of a powerful curse, raged above all else in Storybrooke.

In many ways the Charming's were a vital pawn in his carefully wrought schemes. Their love, no matter what the curse whispered into their fogged minds, or what the world and pictures told them, went far beyond in wickedly forged spell even conjured by the Dark One himself.

With their happiness blooming from the mid winter that had layered cold and harsh and unforgiving bitter frost upon their shadowed hearts, the acid blooded Regina was foolishly allowing her attention to be swept up like the breaking tide with her nemesis finding her love instead of her true problem with Emma Swann. Lost in the morass of her loathing for Mary Margaret she allowed revenge to mar her brilliance.

Her hate, and frigid lust for vengeance which demanded to be sated, as always, blinded her to all else though her all encompassing ownership over the backwoods town was unraveling inch by intricately woven inch.

All her eyes sat stapled upon in their haze of fury was Snow White with a soft coquettish smile upon her red as blood lips as she shared cups of steaming coffee with James, or walked with him out and about town as though they were merely close friends. How it galled her to see their love un-denied whilst she still remained alone and unloved.

Abruptly the brass bell above the door to his job jangled sprightly tearing the fiend away from his jubilant thoughts. He kept his head down, not bothering to look up and acknowledge the new arrival. In many ways he could tell by the scowl burning upon him like a slaves brand belonged to no other than the key to his plans.

"Miss Swann." The businessman's lips curved slightly in an insipid smile as he uttered the name he'd once thrilled to hear from the mouth of Snow White. He fitted the last delicate silver piece back upon its velvet bed neatly. His fingers worked diligently in setting things aright, pretending to give more care to his workmanship that the savior.

Emma's boots thudded lazily, almost sauntering as she swaggered to the counter. The blonde placed both hands against the edge of the glass counter. "Deputy Swann now." She corrected proudly.

"Deputy?" Rumpelstiltskin tilted his head up suddenly. Rare, genuine surprise crinkled his features despite the joy in his heart. Not much surprised the fiend, but to know that the savior was now a protector of the people sparked a touch of ironic humor in his black soul

A bronzed, antique star sat pinned to her belt like a medal that glimmered in the dank lighting of his dust cleared shop. The word 'deputy' lay engraved upon the metal in simple silver script.

She smiled wryly albeit smugly and leaned her elbows indolently against the cluttered counter. Her hard eyes flashed conspiratorially as though admitting a secret. "The former deputy, Guy Stone, was fired for aiding and abetting your assault without taking proper action."

Stone, while a veteran cop, was, as his name suggested, dense as rock. Only wishing to be Anna's rescuer so perhaps she would fall into his arms, he foolishly tossed away his livelihood with his proud choices.

"And you just thought it tickle your fancy to wear a badge for once instead of hunting down criminals." He concluded, and barked a rare laugh, normally Belle only heard, in his rough brogue.

Emma shook her golden head slightly, her lips pursing. A rebellious steely glint so much like her mothers danced in her blue eyes. "I needed a job here in town. Regina wanted me gone, but she doesn't know that just makes me dig my heels in."

All knew the pair shared bad blood. Regina was nearly panicked to be rid of Emma, and the fierce Emma refused to budge and depart from the accursed hamlet.

With a flip of the wrists, the Dark One closed the silver case upon the counter and clicked it shut with his thumbs. Turning his back on the newly crowned deputy, he placed the exquisite set in the glass display window behind the counter. His mouth bit back another smile that wished to wheedle upon his thin lips in the simple wonderfulness of it all. Oh today was marvelous indeed! Having the brutish lout Guy Stone out of work was another little pleasantry to add to his brightened day.

"Well congratulations, Deputy Swann, I hope you serve the people of Storybrooke well." Gold commended pleasantly as he fiddled with a few other trinkets requiring his attention before he could be home with his Belle.

"I didn't come for a back slap and congratulation." The newly dubbed deputy's voice turned to insipid ice. To the Dark One, he could even imagine the smile disappearing from her lips like a magicians spell.

A rattle of steel jingled through the air as the Dark One's hand halted their chores. A muscle in his jaw twitched faintly as the only motion to display his surprise. Slowly, he turned about, his features a mask of confusion.

Gray steel cuffs swung before him on the very tip of her painted index finger like a miniature hangman's noose awaiting its victim's throat. Her mouth was one pink downward crescent as she declared officiously. "Ray Gold you're under arrest for the assault of Moe French."

"Assault?" His weathered brow furrowed inquisitively as he expertly feigned confusion upon the matter. "Moe French claimed _I _assaulted him?" He snorted as though the words were nonsense spoken of a madman. Surely the man could not have been that dense to assume he would really have a chance with a case or even the arms of the law could see justice done.

"Not at all." Emma's frown molded into a thin, disapproving line rife with disgust and distrust. Her stony eyes bored intrusively into him as though scouring his soul to seek his wrongs. The fiend shifted uncomfortably from side to side and flickered his gaze away as she continued dryly. "As he claimed, he fell, but nobody who falls has blunt force trauma wounds all over their broken body as though they just fell from a plane. I convinced Graham to consider the case criminal activity and you're a suspect."

Challenge stonily instilled in her voice like serpents venom. She jerked her head slightly to the side. "Now please step out from behind the counter."

For a moment the pair stared daggers at one another; relentless justice waged a bloody war against cunning and darkness. Had she known what he truly was, the Dark One believed rather humorously her demands would be just as audacious and fearless. Not even staring down the master of magic would give her pause.

Raising his calloused hands in surrender the fiend sighed tiredly. His shoulders heaved in an un-worried shrug. "Alright, have it your way, I'll cater to the madness for now." He agreed, his voice slightly annoyed.

His body winced faintly as the cold steel encircled his wrists firmly but not uncomfortable in their bind. For all he had wrought and endured, being captive was something he abhorred beyond mere understanding. In their true realm he'd nearly gone mad when they locked him away like a mad beast under the castle. Even cuffs made an inkling of wariness tingle across his skin like spiders.

"You really think you're going to walk free?" Emma queried incredulously as she curled her hand around his expensively tailored suit sleeve and tugged him easily to the door.

Gold shrugged his wiry shoulders innocently, his lips quirked into a confident, pallid smirk. "I have no doubt, I'll be acquitted of your accusation by today; tomorrow at the very latest. And after all this foolishness is ended, I look forward to inviting you to my wedding." He couldn't keep the humor from tingeing his easy tone.

"You're still going to invite me after I've arrested you?" The Blonde questioned in stark surprise. Here eyes widened in disbelief as she blinked owlishly. Why would he dare invite her at all to such a momentous occasion?

"Of course, Miss Swann." He reassured her with a wink then added cheerfully. "You're only doing your job, futile as it is."

Silence reigned betwixt the pair as she brought him out into the light of afternoon. She gave him an opportunity to give her a key so she could lock up his expertly cared for goods.

As she fiddled with the sturdy locks, people who rambled languorously down the sweltering sidewalks stopped to stare at the amazing, unusual spectacle before their eyes. Blood drained from the citizens sweat beaded faces whilst their jaws swung limply at the sight. The Monster of Storybrooke was slapped in cuffs!

All eyes sat stapled against the pair as the blonde slipped the key back into one of Gold's pockets and opened the back door to the brown and white police cruiser that still wafted the stink of Guy Stone's aromatic cologne. The unpleasant fragrance seemed as though it had suffused the very interior and clung to ever fiber.

Helping him in with his bum leg, she remarked quietly, unable but to notice the low thrummed whispers and stares that pinioned upon them. "You really do own this town, don't you?"

"Of course, Deputy Swann." Rumpelstiltskin replied matter-of-factly as though it were a child's inquiry and made himself as comfortable as possible.

The back seat was spotted with dark blood stains and crusted, greenish old vomit from drunkards who'd been given a ride down to the station to sleep off their inebriation. Even in such a place he showed no sign of distaste or alarm.

He jostled in his seat easily as though going on a trip to the market or taking a cab. Another smirk of superiority lines his lips as he nodded a fraction. "And that, Dearie is a power that is sweeter than all the rest."

A dark frown pulled the fringes of the deputy lips towards his haughty, yet truthful words. With a small curse she slammed the door shut and started to her side of the car.

Cheers, lurid and joyous, abruptly rang from all about her as though a parade had begun. Her name rang through the heated air as citizens clapped and whistled and hooted to the scorching heavens at her tenacious bravery.

Finally there was one not under Regina's or Gold's tight thumb; one who would spit in the face of their displeasure instead of cower like bugs. They had a defender who would dare arrest Mr. Gold himself!

Facing away from the applause as though she cared not, a small smile twitched upon Emma's lips as she entered the vehicle.

Alone for a few precious seconds, the fiend's face darkened into stony fury. He stared hard out the dark tinted window, his eyes narrowed into slits. His face wrenched in a baleful scowl that belied his normal easiness. Despite the heat his breath misted against the pane as he spat a silent, vile profanity at the cleverness of Emma Swann.

In the dim haze of the glass, already he could view a few people clicking away at their cell phones texting the incredible news whilst others cheered her courage.

After what he had done, his Belle was to know his actions sooner than intended. Of course there was no doubt she'd find out her father lay a bloody pulp in a hospiatl room. But, if his plans had gone correctly, she would have found out when her Papa's wounds were on the mend and he didn't look at though he'd gotten mauled by a tiger.

With a sigh, the fiend leaned his head against the head seat tiredly. Only the rumble of the engine and the faint lurch of the car told the dissatisfied Rumpelstiltskin the beginning of the worst was on its way.

True, she would have been angry learning of her fathers beating, but mayhap not _that _angry had she learned later.

~8~8~

His prison was a small, desolate thing; one that reminded him all too accurately of the enchanted steel bars like rusted blood and cold, slimy rocks of his dungeon of old. Four drab gray walls and a door forged of grayish blue bars surrounded him. A bed, made with itchy gray blankets, and cemented into the floor was the only place to rest in the confined quarters.

Sitting upon the neatly made jail cell bed in silent contemplation, the Dark One perched his head up as the sharp click of heels echoed down the police station hall. Unease squirmed like angry snakes writhing remorselessly in his gut whilst the rhythmic clicking drew near.

He could feel her anger before he saw her. Disapproving and disappointment followed her trail like smoke from a torches guttering flame, filling his heart with sorrow.

His Belle knew.

Emma shook the lethargic contemplations from her pondering mind as the sound of heels clicked through her ears. Her features knit in deep confusion as she arched her neck to see who waked down the hall. She set down a white Styrofoam cup from her grip as she shoved her feet from off the steel desk and stood up all in the same smooth motion just as the newcomer traipsed in.

"Annabelle." She greeted warily and shook the beauty's hand.

A faltering, dark grin pressed uneasily upon Belle's lips in a way that easily betrayed her worn emotions. Her face was pale and her body radiated a tiredness that only came from a growing being in her belly. "I heard my fiancé was down here."

"Come to post bail?" Swann queried curiously, a brow arched as he lips curled upward wryly.

A soft, humorless laugh tumbled drearily from Belle's lips. Her body seemed to simply crumble of any strength. "He can post his own bail." She sighed in reply. Her cobalt eyes gazed into Emma's pleadingly. Pain sparked behind the strength and courage that filled the stoic beauty. "I just came to talk with him. Can we have a few minutes alone…please?"

Hardness evaporated from the normally stony Emma's features. Her face softened warmly as though moved. If Neal had been in prison whilst she was under the same circumstances she'd want the same.

Understanding sparkled in her blue eyes as she nodded slowly. "Five minutes." She warned and tramped out into the heat of afternoon.

"Thank you." Belle whispered gratefully as the deputy stomped down the long corridor. With a sigh torn of grief mingled copious with anger, the beauty turned to her love. She held her hands out as though silently asking why to her lover.

Agony lashed her lovely features as she padded numbly to the grayish blue steel bars that imprisoned her love. "My father, Rum, my very own father."

Refusing to stare her directly in her eyes, the fined pinioned his eyes at the simple woolen, gray blanket strewn upon the hard cot. His hands curled over his cane as he leaned against the crutch. "He insulted you, called you a whore, and injured me."

"He was my father." She echoed calmly, her voice fraught with accusation. Her clever fingers curled over the cold steel as she pressed her body close to the confines that held her one and only as though she could melt through and be by his side.

How after all the years they lived and loved could he still act so barbaric and monstrous? Had their love been nothing but a fancy in the good times and too much a chore when the bad instances arose for him to be bothered with?

He huffed derisively as anger began to roil within. His lips twisted angrily with injustice spat upon him. Fire sparked in his heart, causing the embers of old to pulse to life. Her father branded her a whore, disowned her and yet she was so upset? "Did you think I'd let his offence go unrequited? That I'd let what he did to me, go without being paid for promptly?" He inquired darkly, his lips pulled back in a sneer revealing his gold tooth.

"Unrequited? Rum, you but him in intensive care! He has too many stitches to count!" She shot back fiercely. Twin flames of azure blazed with unabashed intensity towards Rumpelstiltskin.

The fiend curled his hand tightly over the hilt of his cane. Rising as best he could without his leg crumpling beneath his weight, his features darkened in fury. Taking a few steps to the bars he gripped the steel tightly and held her angered gaze with an equally as furious. Their eyes searched one another as though delving into their souls with a comfortable familiarity.

"What did you think the Dark One would do? Give him a slap on the wrist and scold him like a naughty child?" He prodded a finger into his neatly tailored midnight suit, his words zealous in a fervent promise. "I'm protecting you Belle, I'm protecting our child."

"By beating anyone who seems a threat near death!" She snapped angrily, her temper unbound. Her nostrils flared furiously as her eyes narrowed like dual indigo slits. "You act like a dragon guarding its cache, and attacking any who dares wander near. You're not a monster, Rum; you're not the Dark One, nor the master who bought me those years ago."

His lips curled back into a feral snarl as he flourished his wiry fingers mockingly through the air like the high pitched Dark One of ages past. "Ah, and that's where you're wrong. You've grown used to seeing only Rumpelstiltskin and looking past the blackness and evil that is the Dark One. Oh he's still there, believe you me; you just ignore the devious imp lurking in the shadows because you want the man and not the beast."

"I fell in love with all of Rumpelstiltskin." The beauty retorted icily. Her words spewed out in a huff of frustration that rankled through her form. Though he was her love, he could seem like a monster unused to personal affections still.

Though she meant the words in anger, they startled the fiend. His whisky brown eyes blinked owlishly upon his love as though she had slapped him. What did she mean by all of him?

The anger softened in her face as she saw the confusion and surprise upon his haggard features. Anger flickered pathetically in her form as the rage began to slacken its ruthless torrents. For a moment she fought the urge to let a grin play upon her pink lips. After all the years they'd known one another, shared every secret, spoke every word of their soul could he still be surprised so?

"I didn't fall for just the man." She continued her timbre gentler. Her hand slipped through the bars in search of his flesh, to feel him once more as she so longed. "I fell for all of him; the scales, the quips, and even the darkness which prowls his mighty heart. I know the Darkness inside you. I know the Dark One still plagues you and clutches at your soul. But you are not the Dark One, not truly, and you never were. He's only a part of the whole."

Feeling ashamed, the fiend's shoulders slumped dejectedly. A deep rumble akin to a purr roiled through his throat as he lost himself to her touch. "I some times forget how bright you are." He murmured, the anger flitting away from his heart like crisp autumnal leaves in a fall zephyr.

"Compliments won't get you off that easy." She scolded primly, her voice slightly cold. Another hand slipped through the bar as she placed it against his stubble cheek. "You're going to apologize, and pay for his medical expenses."

"And you'll forgive me?" He asked like a hopeful child seeking a way to redeem his wrongs. Anything to make her happy once more was a goal to aspire for his life.

A sly grin pulled upon her features. "I've already forgiven you, though I detest what you did, husband." She sighed grievously her eyes pleading. "Just promise me you won't do that to another."

"I wish I could." He whispered gently. The fiend closed his eyes and rested his forehead upon the cool bars, imginaing them the warm flesh of his wife. "I won't, not yet, I will protect my family."

A frown pulled upon her lips. Her brow crinkled furtively as she cocked her head to one side. "You can protect us without ravaging others."

"No." He forced the word out pointed. The single phrase barked out far more fiercly than he expected. Shaking his head, the fiend attempted to banish the fury that leapt inside his soul.

Pain crawled through his mind lie a poisonous snake seeking to bite a nerve. Unworthiness and cowardice slitered their deplorable claws out to slash at old wounds. His eyes looked sullen and pathetic as he stared down. For a moment he seemed as the poor spinner once more who could nay even lift a blade to protect what was his.

Thoughts of his wife who loathed him and son he could not protect blurred in a whirlind through his mind until he could nearly hear their word snapping from their mouths. Laughter and tears and curses swam and milled through his ancient mind.

In a desperate breath he whispered sorrowfully. "I can't protect anyone unless I make those who seek to hurt feel pain first." He held his hand out as though begging for understanding. "It's the only way I know how, coward that I am."

"Then we will seek a better way." Belle assured strongly. Her delicate hand curled over his. With a great will, as big as her heart, as she squeezed with all the strength she could muster.

Her word trilled soft and gentle into his ears like balm to the aggravated wounds of old. With his Belle by his side nothing felt impossible. With her he felt as though the beast inside was not himself, but a thing to conquer and subdue.

Abruptly, an impish smile slipped upon his lips. His eyes alit in fiendish delight that brought a smile to her lovely features. "Once we're married?"

The russet haired beauty chuckled quietly, her eyes glimmering with their secret to be kept to the end of time. "Yes, once we're 'married'."

A half hearted laugh emenated from his mouth as he slipped his hands through the bars. His wiry fingers wove through her dark amber mane as he whispered lovingly. "I look forward to it."


	32. Wedding Day Once Again

The day that dawned upon the wedding of Ray Gold and Annabelle French was a flawless one to behold. Stray, puffy clouds, like misbegotten sheep bereft of their shepherd, rambled about the vibrant azure firmament going hither and thither without a purpose or care.

Heat blazed ferociously upon the tiny shire as though the golden eye of the unblinking orb stared with interest down upon them alone. Only a gratefully pleasant breeze stirred from the salty waves waylaid the scathing heat with its cooling kiss as the wind skidded across the town as though brining the news of the wedding to the far corners of the earth.

The lifeblood of Storybrooke seemed to meander as though in a trance wrought of powerful magic. Anna and Gold were to be wed! Such a union had not occurred since…since…in fact no one could recall a more scandalous, surprising marriage in the town's dull history. Not even the curses magic, powerful and tyrannical as the evil was, could dredge up a more astounding matrimony in the minds of the accursed citizens. There had never been a wedding such as theirs to take place.

Shops sat deserted and closed along the quaint, decorated avenues of the seaside town. Restaurants were dark and even the normally busy Granny's Diner lay desolate as though the entire hamlet was on holiday or some apocalyptic disaster had scourged the town clean of life.

Half the county had received neatly written invitations in gold and white trim to be cordially invited to the wedding to remember. Not many, though hardly any approved of the matrimony, declined the simple yet fanciful invitation scrawled neatly with the date and time, out of fear or ravenous curiosity. Some, the less reputable in Storybrooke, decided to attend only to see if the wedding was a forced union from the Dark One upon the innocent Annabelle.

The location for the wedding itself was a beautiful spot upon a sparsely grassed knoll that swelled towards the briny waters as though yearning for the tumultuous arms of the sea. Towering upon the spot like a taciturn behemoth the blue and gray painted lighthouse sat akin to some watchful guardsmen scanning the endless main.

The seaside incline rose gently from the soft earth to overlook the roaring greenish waves that crawled to shore only to retreat into his icy depths. From the magnificent perch the whole crescent of the Storybrooke shoreline curved out as though some deity had carved the jagged shore with a righteous sweep of its hand. No other perch in all of Storybrooke was lauded as greatly as the gentle rise, with its lofty giant protector, that displayed the waters and land so clearly and encompassing.

Rows upon rows of white chairs were planted firmly in the soft earth all facing towards the crashing sea. Ivory tassels in the shape of roses hung from each seat and the few, stunted trees that bloomed upon the knoll were bedecked with strands of ivory.

A small box with a plain white painted altar in its center was erected at the very apex of the hill. The dainty overhang where the couple would be wed was made of trellised wood adorned with satiny red roses to offset the alabaster white wood.

Looming above, the lighthouse seemed to preen and watch down like some approving patron of their coming matrimony. Though none had touched the signal tower in ages for renovations, the entire monolithic fortress seemed awash in new paint the sun and the salty wind had yet to mar with its harsh claws and wailing tongue.

"It's getting crowded out there, Anna." Ruby remarked with a tinge of excitement in her normally jovial tone. Her hands curled about the wood as she intrepidly creaked open the thick door further and stared out to the congregation of attendees.

A mob of people, dressed in their Sunday finest, set upon the hard seats, chatting luridly with one another in the warm summers drawling evening. Dr. Hopper leaned over his chair to talk with the elderly Marco three rows back along with many others who waited the momentous occasion on the lips of the entire town.

Already half the seats were claimed and more were standing in a rambling line awaiting to be admitted to their chairs.

The pair was housed at the base of the ancient lighthouse, using its bottom floor as a makeshift dressing room for the beauty. No one would have allowed them entry had not her love already owned the deed to the very pinnacle itself technically making it hers as well.

A small, sardonic half smile creased the beauty's flawless face to mask her nervousness towards Ruby's claim. She fiddled with her thin left shoulder strap, staring hard into the floor length mirror a few helpful citizens had hauled in the lighthouse. "I suppose so. Half the town was invited to attend, and not being invited still probably wouldn't have stopped them."

"I could have stopped them." Ruby jested proudly in a exaggerating sigh and firmly latched the door to bar the curious. She offered her friend a sly wink as she sauntered over to the bride. "I can be very intimidating you know. I've got a mean growl."

Though nerves quivered anxiously through the beauty, another smile twitched slightly upon her lips at Ruby's light hearted quip. Tossing her russet mane, she focused her entire will on the strap that refused to stay put. Her brow crinkled in consternation as she narrowed in on the rebellious article. "You're maid of honor, not security."

Ruby of course, her best friend for 27 years was maid of honor. She had been a bit nervous to ask knowing the bad blood the waitress and her husband shared, but the scarlet server stood behind her friend with a dogged loyalty.

"Fortunately, Graham has that well covered." Emma butted in breathlessly to the chatting pair. Her heels clicked sharply upon the winding wooden staircase as she scurried down to the ground floor like a girl late for a date.

A sleeveless, form fitting tight blue dress clung to her luscious form just as Ruby's. Her honey blonde tresses cascaded like rays of gold down her shoulders brining out a beauty that usually lurked behind a red leather jacket and a stony glare. One hand gripped a black, bulky walkie-talkie that blinked steadily to receive a signal. She hefted the ancient communicator slightly and nodded a confirmation. "Graham says nothings out of place. Leroy hasn't even gotten into the scotch yet."

The crimson flared waitress motioned to the blonde; her golden eyes alit with humor. "See, she has two jobs."

Emma's incorporation into the wedding had been the shortest of short notice. Ashley, an old friend dictated by the false intricate web of memories from the curse, was taking care of her small daughter Alexis who sudden came down with a nasty cold. In the close cancellation, Emma had hesitatingly filled the role, though at times she seemed awkward and out of place as though in a different world.

What exactly was she doing in the wedding of a woman she barely knew?

"Alright, I see your point." Belle uttered a small, laugh that betrayed her nerves. The moment of mirth dissipated like snow on a summers day. A trite frown pinched upon her painted mouth as she tried with all her will to keep the strap, which seemed to be the last thing to culture her ever looming wariness, proper.

Though she had been secretly wed before, the stress of a true wedding had been gratefully denied her until that moment. Before in their first ceremony, there was simply her love, an aged priest, and their two dogs to witness their matrimony. Now sat a myriad of people waiting to gawk and stare at them and wonder why she was marrying the monster of Storybrooke and betting to see if she'd go through with saying I do.

Compassionately the exotic Ruby placed her hands on her friend's slender shoulders. She squeezed slightly to bolster Belle's flagging courage. Though she could often sense subtly hints of anxiety, not noticing the nervousness laced upon her porcelain features would have been utterly impossible. The beauty's eyes glimmered with anxiousness and fear. Even her body radiating the wariness that cultivate about her normally optimistic form.

Another drawn sigh escaped her supple vibrantly red lips as she began to make the correction on the white strap whilst encouraging her friend. "Don't worry, Hun, you look wonderful. Everything will go smooth, you'll see."

Though the words were meant to instill the beauty with bravery, Ruby did not overstate her claim.

A simple, thin white dress garbed the beauty's slender form fittingly. The gown inlayed with a few accents and patterns swirled at her ankles and beheld a modest train that lay smooth and silky. Her russet mane was pinned up in a spiral with pearls braided into her tresses. A few wayward strands tastefully fell from the do to skirt and cling about her swan like neck that boasted a fine diamond necklace worthy of any woman who was about to marry the richest man in town.

"Thanks Ruby." Belle smiled sadly as she stared at herself in the glass. She twisted her dexterous fingers warily; unable to keep the habits from resurging as was her wont.

Part of her could not help but see the bone weary girl from the kingdom by the sea once more. The mirror reflected a beautiful bride to be, yet all she saw was the golden gown sullied by the dust of debris wrought about by trebuchets boulders and reeking of smoke from the bonfires heaped with human and ogre corpses alike.

She saw the worry lines of the woman who stood in her father's damaged war council chambers awaiting word of the Dark One, and the wary slave who entered the Dark Castle not knowing what to expect from the renowned monster.

"Ruby!" An elderly no nonsense voice hollered out in search of the exotic waitress cleanly severing the beauty's thoughts.

A look of scathing chagrin and annoyance dashed across the waitress's lupine features. Scowling she muttered a small curse and rolled her eyes. "That'll be Granny looking for me before I can nab up any cute guys to bring home." Abruptly, she wrapped her arms about her friend in a tight consoling hug. "I'll see you when its time." The fierce Ruby whispered in assurance and stepped out growling to her surly guardian.

Belle tossed her head slightly in amusement to hear the pair as they grumpily snapped and yelled at one another like bickering children. Though to all they seemed they were eternally caught at odds they were completely dedicated and cared for each other.

Shaking the last renewed memories of a world ago from her mind like dust from a rug, the beauty stared hard at her troubled reflection in attempts to quell her nerves. She swallowed hard as though a boulder lay caught in her throat, forcing her nerves to steady with a firm will. Her dexterous fingers plucked at a few out of place strand of her ringlets as she dredged up the courage to face the stares and the hard eye disapproving critics.

She was under no illusions why people had come. They wanted to actually see the impossible take place, and wonder just what he threatened for her to bear the cup of being his wife. They would never comprehend the love that bound them together tighter than any curse or vile magic no matter what he was.

"You don't have to do this, you know." Emma's calm timbre smoothed through the air; always a voice of reason. Her eyes glimmered with concern that she could no longer house behind her stoic nature.

No one else said, nor even alluded to the thought that plagued the towns mind like lurking wolves. What if Gold was forcing the marriage as some still claimed he forced her into his bed? What if she were only wedding him to make sure her child was well taken care of?

Anna tilted her head down bashfully. Her flawless cheeks alit with a dusky pink that splashed a lively color into her ashen features. She too knew well the considerations that milled through others mind when they looked at her. They thought her nothing more than a pawn and a tool for his pleasures, but there was nothing further from the truth.

She took solace in the dim, coolness of the lighthouse that contrasted greatly of the warmth and love in her Rum's arms. Once she was nestled in his arms again everything would be at peace. "I want to, Emma." The beauty admitted softly, her words truthful and spoken from the wellspring of her bursting soul. She gulped hard and curled her hands close to her throbbing heart. "People refuse to believe or admit it, but our love is real and wonderful and fabulous."

Tears gathered upon the rim of her azure eyes as she looked up. A genuine smile quivered upon her porcelain features as she let forth a tremulously, watery chuckle. "Did you know I purposed to him?"

"You?" Surprise unabashedly laced the deputy voice.

Belle nodded vapidly, her eyes took on a misty faraway look as though relieving the details of the glorious day. "I was so happy with him, I had loved him for a time but I was always to fearful to voice that love. I thought perhaps my affections were one sided. But instead he returned my ardor and fondness and we grew to be more than friends."

The strong blonde stared deeply at the lovely young woman straightening out the wrinkles in her ivory gown. Try as she might she could detect not a hint of insincerity. Somehow, someway she truly did love the man the rest of Storybrooke cursed and hated with a passion.

Crossing her exposed arms she snorted rebelliously, her eyes glinting with battle fervor. "Then when you get out there don't pay anyone else any mind." She suggested promptly. "Your eyes are only for him; your love is only for him. Don't think about the people staring and whispering."

"You seem to be an expert." Belle observed half joking, half spying. She would have been lying is she denied she wasn't interested in Emma's sordid past, which, in short lay swathed with tragedy and abandonment.

The blonde shook her head, her painted lips pursed. The dimness of the lighthouse half shrouded her face. "No, it's just that's how I would do it if I was walking down the isle."

"Thank you for the advice, Emma." Belle uttered gratefully. Though the words were simple and laced with determination, the beauty felt her spirit lift. All that mattered for the day was him, her, and… on a whim her hand drifted down to her fluttering stomach. A slight baby bump protruded from her skin tight dress in the ever present reminder of what was dear to them both. All that mattered were him, her, and their tiny child.

The rough blonde hopped down as best she could from the last step of the spiral stairwell in her blue heels. A rare smile trailed upon her lips as she headed for the door. "You just try not to lose sight of what's important for the day." With that, she was gone into the blazing sunshine to take her place.

A relived grin slowly overtook Belle's worried features as she stared at the last place Emma had stood. Though the voices murmured like thunder past the thick door and she felt her heart beating a rapid tattoo against her bosom, she felt more at easy than she had the entire day. Yes, she would march out and face the voices and the whispers and the looks with nary a twinge of nervousness.

Turning back to the mirror to make one last arrangement upon her stunning appearance, the beauty gasped at the prim, dangerous form standing calmly in the mirror behind her. Blood drained from her face as though she had stumbled upon a rotting corpse in the light house.

"A rousing little speech by Miss Swann." Regina remarked crudely from behind the beauty. Her mouth held a distasteful, ruby glossed smirk as she clapped insipidly, clearly unimpressed.

"How…how did you get in here?" Belle stammered hesitatingly, her breath hitched tremulously in her throat, unable to move past the unexpected horror of the harpy's sudden appearance. Out of all the people upon the list, Regina had not been one of them.

The miserable witch shrugged nonchalantly as though her presence was of no consequence. She was attired in one of her finer pants suits with a wide brimmed ebony hat plumed with an exotic red and black feather for flare. "I have a penchant of being where I'm not wanted." She admitted easily and flicked a speck of dirt from beneath her red painted nails. "Weddings are sort of my thing to crash."

"What do you want?" The beauty demanded bravely, her tone like a sliver of sharp ice that cut through her fright.

Though Regina had indeed startled her, the fear was slowly evaporating in the bickering heat of anger. Her eyes glinted a steely hue. How dare the witch ruin her special day with her befouled presence!

Without warning the Madame Mayor drew near like a vultures swooping upon a rotting carcass. A sickly sweet grin donned her pallid, corpselike face as she intrudingly placed a hand upon Belle's slightly swollen belly. "I'm simply checking up on my insurance." She chuckled malevolently. Greedily glinted fouly in her jade depths as she stared almost hungrily upon the bulge of the beauty's rounded stomach. "To think, from slave girl to forced lover to eager wife. My, you've certainly moved quickly, maturing like a good wine."

Immediately Belle slapped her hand away as though she held a dagger to her flesh. Rage, blazed like an inferno in her azure depths as she stared down the harpy with all the malice in her form.

"Leave." She growled, hoping her voice did not betray the sudden terror that arose in her form. Dread pooled sickeningly in the beauty's gut though she tried to stave off the angst that clawed its razor talons into her mind. Insurance? What did such, cruel, malicious words mean?

"Alright." Regina grinned wickedly, her lips a ruby slice as she backed away cautiously. "I just came to leave my gift, and wish the bride a long, _happy _marriage with a beast."

"The only beast here is you." Belle snarled fiercely, her lips pried back in a feral sneer. Her body pulsated with hate towards the harpy.

The witch clucked in mock offence as though the beauty had cursed her to the deepest pits of hell. She placed a hand to her heart as though wounded to her soul. "Such harsh words. Just remember, I long ago gave you a chance to join my ranks, you can't blame me for what happens now." With that she turned upon her heel and walked not towards the thick door, but to a door thought locked and boarded.

The beauty's narrowed eyes remained riveted like daggers upon the harpy's back as she slipped out into the day with the success of her plans. If she meant only to rock the bride, she certainly accomplished those ends.

The air seemed to lighten noticeably as the cruel Regina departed into the light of day. Only when she was gone did Belle realize how badly she was shaken. Gathering what was left of her confidence, the beauty leaned against the cool rounded wall for support. Her body trembled slightly with sudden fatigue and horror that raced through her form.

The coolness from the plaster was a heart welcome to soothe the roiling fear within. Closing her eyes she tilted her head up as though inquiring for answers.

Her mind was set ablaze in worried curiosity. What had Regina meant? Part of her wished to find her Rum as soon as possible and hug him close and related the Harpy's ill prophesied words, but no.

Determination swelled like a tsunami through the brave beauty. Her eyes turned to sapphire jewels as she clenched her jaw stoically. Her hands curled into twin fists as she bolstered herself with bravery that accosted her terror and plunged the lurking worry into the farthest reaches of her mind.

Today was her wedding and she'd not have Regina's words spoil the day by her serpents tongue lancing poison into her mind. In the night when she lay with her love she could whisper her worry's and the words spoke by the brutal witch, but for now, she was determined to enjoy the day she 'officially' became Mrs. Gold.

~8~8~

Eve was just beginning to tinge the blue heavens as the ceremony began the solemn procession. Vibrant lavender mingled with dusky scarlet and blushing pink swathed the firmament in ribbons of awe striking color. Descending sun painted the dark blue sky in an astounded portrait above the glittering sea.

The teal waves glistened merrily as though diamonds bobbed upon the tossing main. With the golden orbs brilliance shimmering out into the depths, the sun regally began its trek in sinking into its nest upon the gray horizon.

The sound of violins and harps warbled tremulously soft upon the salt ridden air alerting the watchers the bride approached for her destiny.

All low murmured talked quieted to an immediate hush as curious heads turned to the end of the isle. Their eyes scanned the beauty with a judging air, but none could deny why her name truly meant beauty at that moment. In the glorious brilliance of the sun set dancing upon the froth capped waves, her look truly had no parallel in all of Storybrooke.

A veil of crisp white covered her face as the beauty slowly marched down the isle in step to the music. Her delicate hands clasp a lovely bouquet of blue and violet asphodels she held close to her chest.

Her heart pounded in her chest sounding akin to a cannon that blasted in her ears. Blood galloped like wild steeds through her veins, making her dizzy with delight.

Forcing her gaze straight forward she her eyes caught her husbands and the entire world faded away. There were no stares for good or ill upon her, no well wishers or curse bearers, not even the sound of the sweetly played music could penetrate her trance. In the last hours of the warm day, she held her vision of only her Rum.

He was dressed in a stiff tux that cut him a dashing figure in the twinkling sunset haze. His hands were clasped behind his back with no hint of his golden handled cane in sight. Though his leg must have been screaming in agony, if he remained in any pain, none showed upon his rough features.

A crooked grin that contained all his happiness and awe was etched across his clean shaven face. His eyes beheld no one but his Belle, his bride, his true love, his very world.

Tall grass that sprouted in sandy tuffs upon the knoll swayed with the cooling breeze; a gift from the pounding surf. Her veil tousled and brushed teasingly against her lush porcelain skin as though the wind mocked her husband with a possible view of his wife before dying away.

Though some glared and clucked disapprovingly at the bump that swelled her stomach, Rumpelstiltskin never thought she looked more beautiful with their child growing inside her.

"You look amazing." He mouthed quietly once she arrived at the simple wooden altar.

His rough, spinner worked hand took hers in their calloused grip tenderly. He entwined his fingers with hers, threading their fate together before man and God once more. Here, before all in the town of Storybrooke he could show his love and never be repentant of such a glorious thing.

Fire mounted her cheeks lending a pinkish hue to her peach toned skin. She stepped nearer to her love leaving only a small space wear the jovial pastors hoary hair could be seen.

As the solemn ceremony began many noted the monster of Storybrooke appeared…happy. A bright glint of joy shimmered in his chocolate eyes that stared for only his bride. His smile told the tale of a thousand words he wished to speak of his affections and yet none would do her justice. He was hers and hers alone at that moment.

By magic or by happenstance the sun was a fierce vermilion orb resting upon the lapping waves as the last rites were uttered.

The tranquil pastor, different from their first, looked from one to the other solemnly. Eyes hard and wrinkled about the edges with thin lines of crows feet and ripened age, he graciously spoke the ancient words to bind them as man and wife. With the same curiosity as those watching the ceremony, he asked question the whole of Storybrooke desired to hear.

"I do." Gold announced gladly in his thick accent. His hands trembled as though the first time touching her skin. The ring slid upon her hand where it had rested for 27 years unbeknownst.

"And do you, Annabelle Rose French take Ray Eli Gold to be your lawfully wedded husband?" The sagely pastor inquired.

At that moment the whole of Storybrooke stared with baited breath upon the beauty. Every eye present was pinioned upon her with eager expectation. Even the surf and the waves seemed to quiet their sonorous roars awaiting her reply.

Had they only known before long, long ago, the answer would have been the same as it would always be.

Laughter bubbled merrily from her lips as she nodded. Her voice strained with tears of joy as she repeated the words bursting from her jubilant soul. "I do."

Slipping the band upon his hand, the beauty and the beast had to suppress laughter at the thought of it all. After 27 years still they felt so nervous saying I do.

"You may of course kiss the bride." The pastor proclaimed sagaciously.

Cheers and clapping arose in a wave of good will as the word parted his lips. The crowd voiced their approval of the magical union and stood to congratulate the couple.

The Dark One stared lovingly at his wife. His hands shook tremulously as he lifted her veil. Tear brimmed her azure depth as she stared deeply into his own.

Beauty such as hers never ceased to astound him. His wiry fingers brushed lightly against her soft flesh as he felt his lips drawn to hers.

"We should do this more often." She jested as he leaned into her.

Warm breath from his slightly parted lips smoothed past her face in a chuckle before she met her mouth to his. "I think twice is more than enough."

Cheers roared over the crash of the turbulent sea as they goaded the pair on. They parted only to take in the salty air that whispered bout them. Oh to let their wondrous love be known to all!

Unexpectedly Rumpelstiltskin wrapped his arms about her, hugging her tight. "Finally." He uttered gently into her ear as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. "Finally we can do this right."

Finally he could be the husband she needed and deserved. Finally he could proudly proclaim to the world she owned him and he was hers with all his soul.

Belle snuggled against his body, drunk upon the scent of his cologne and the cheers of well wishers and the sea fragrance that swirled about them in a delicate perfume. She opened her mouth to reply only to have the words stolen from her mind as a raging gale could steal a life.

Her soft eyes widened in abject terror at the sight standing away from the gathering like some herald of death. Regina stood in the shadow of the light house; a dismal specter proclaiming demise from bygone ages.

Her glossed ruby lips glinted in the fading rays of day in a wicked vermilion smirk. She leaned carelessly upon the brick mortar of the light house, her arms crossed smugly, and face half adumbrate under the wide brimmed hat she donned at an angle.

Knowing the beauty had seen her, the vile witch waved a crimped hand gracefully as though still a queen waving to acknowledge her subjects. Standing tall she offered a mock curtsy and disappeared as mist in the night hours into the darker shade of the lighthouse leaving a worried Belle pondering the ominous words of the evil queen.


	33. Underlying Darkness

"Home sweet home, Belle-of-mine." Rumpelstiltskin crooned into his loves ear playfully. Eagerness tinged his low tone as he fiddled with the lock to allow entry into his lavish mansion. He chuckled sultrily, just brushing her skin with warm, loving kisses he peppered along the path of her milky neck.

His wiry arms wrapped about her middle as he pulled inside the dusky pink manse. A mischievous, wanting air crackled about him like lightening in a storm. He nuzzled against the creamy flesh of her neck, a longing growl rumbling deep in his chest.

Oh to have her without secrets or underhanded means! They no longer had to fear if the townsmen were suspicious of their actions, or arched brows at their slightly too normal ease with one another.

The beauty giggled breathlessly as his lips tickled past her ear. Her palms rested flush against his heaving chest as she kissed his scruffy jaw line. "It's been home for 27 years." She retorted softly in jest, her body sinking into his. He fit like a perfect puzzle piece against her form; melding into every curve and dip of her body. When they were together, truly together, they were whole in every way.

"True, Dearie, all very true." He admitted freely. A wide grin spilt his lips, showing the rows of his jagged teeth. "But, as long as we're convincing the town this is the first moment we've said 'I do' I don't see any reason at all why we shouldn't finish what we started."

Pink lips pulled to one side in mock suspicion, her eyes narrowed dubiously. "Why Rumpelstiltskin are you trying to lure me, an innocent maiden, to your bed?"

"That ship has long ago sailed, beloved." He wrapped his arms tighter about her form banishing the small space betwixt their bodies. Love shimmered in his brown eyes, enrapturing her with his fervent ardor. His, all his, now and forever.

Her lips twitched good naturedly as she gratefully pressed her head to his chest. Love for him exuded from her every pore with him so wondrously near. She snuggled against his form, letting her world encompass nothing else but them.

Happily, she placed a hand to her belly. "Don't I know it." She replied tenderly. Mirth laced her tones as she let her hands drift along her slight bulge. Though the pregnancy was early, part of her felt as though the babe kicked or moved in approval.

A large grin warped upon his lips as he stared down joyously to her slightly protruding stomach. Simply recalling the little life blooming inside sent another thrill of absolute elation racing through his form. Mother, child, a family nearly restored.

His calloused hand reverently fell to her growing belly as though it were some exquisite trinket unfit for him to wield. He rubbed her belly in small circles, talking tenderly like the babe could hear. "That's right; you're the terror that gave us away to the town." The fiend chided mockingly.

"I'm glad he or she did." She replied in a light hearted chuckle. Russet curls tumbled freely about her face as she stared down at her swelling tummy. If not for their child, they would have continued living as though their love was a dirty secret to be hidden from the eyes of the town.

Abruptly, worry sprang like an awaiting wolf into her exposed, soft heart. Immediately, the thoughts of Regina surged through her mind in a gushing tide. Just as they feared of those harming them for their love when they first wed had already occurred.

Regina's ominous words, her smug little smirk, the hunger in her wide jaded eyes all raced back like vomit in the beauty's throat.

Her smile crumbled from her face, her touch turning from one of tenderness to protectiveness and fear. What did the Harpy have planned? Were her words simply meant to unbalance them?

Trouble furrowed the Dark One's rough features. Instinctively, as though his heart beat in tune with hers, he sensed the tremulous shift from happiness to melancholy like a gust of wind turn from a cooling breeze to an ominous herald of a squall.

Calloused hands cupped her face tenderly in his grip. Lifting her face to meet his own he cocked his head inquisitively to the left as though a better angle could reveal her troubles. Wariness lurked in his orbs as he scanned her knowingly. "What's wrong?" He queried lowly to hide the angst that roiled within.

Fear twitched upon her features. Everything would be alright in the end, she believed assuredly, but he had to know if simply for her peace of mind. "Regina." She spoke the abhorred name in quaking tones. Breathing deep, the beauty forced her tumultuous nerves to steady before continuing. "She…she came to see me before the wedding began."

"What…?" He breathed hollowly in stark disbelief, his eyes narrowed to searching hers with an unsteady feel of trepidation. Alarm reared inside his form with the words that fell past her lips. He scanned her body as though he'd find some unnoticed injury dealt to his wife by the evil witch.

The place had been secured per Grahams promise who swore even to bar the Madame Mayor from entry and spoiling their special day. All day no one had seen hide nor hair of the vile, Miss Mills. That alone would have been cause for celebration.

The beauty nodded dourly. Gulping hard she forced herself to continue. "She appeared in the lighthouse and started talking about how I and the child were insurance, and how I should have joined her when I had the chance. After we said our vows I saw her in the shadow of lighthouse." An unctuous chill slithered involuntarily down her spine. A look of haunting draped across her features. "She's up to something, Rum, I know it."

"I will kill her." The beast within growled possessively. Dread finality rang ominously in his dark tone. There was no clause or ifs he always had a penchant to cherish in his words. The ominous threat, meant in solemn, firm determination, wrested from his mouth almost in a fated promise.

All manner of the Rum who'd sworn his life to her in front of half the town was sequestered away in some far away, bleak sarcophagus to allow the monster to spring to life in all its brutal, savage glory. His jaw clenched furiously and his eyes became nothing more than brown flecks of steel that held murder in their depths.

Belle shook her head and gripped his wrinkled suit desperately as though trying to grasp for her love she had known a few moments ago. Pleading quivered in her words. "No, you can't. That isn't the way, Rum. You can't go about murdering people to protect me, even if she is Regina." Forcefully she calmed her tremulous voice. A small smile twitched sadly upon her lips. "Remember, we will find a better way."

Eerie silence reigned betwixt them for a tortuous moment. Belle held her breath anxiously as the first time she'd said I do, wondering if her would truly heed her plea. He wasn't a monster, nor did he have to act as one to secure her safety.

"Alright, if that is your wish." He tenderly stroked her hair, his voice calm and reasonable once more. A nervous grin sprang to his lips like a ray of sun breaking from a mass of dark thunder clouds. The Dark One fled from his face, replacing its sinters air once more with Rumpelstiltskin the man.

Guilt stabbed his soul as he managed to keep a cool composure in her love shimmering eyes. He detested lying to his Belle, but if she ever caught on to what fate he plotted for Regina she would have gasped in horror.

If the ostentatious harpy dared move against his wife and child, he would happily rip off her head with his bare hands and offer it to his Belle as a gift.

Relief eased like warmth on a spring day through her body. A genuine smile crept upon her face as she once more sank into his grip. "Thank you." She whispered into his chest. Her lips kissed the area of his duly beating heart causing the mass of muscles to skip a beat. "Thank you for trying to change."

"And for good behavior perhaps…" His voice trailed off suggestively low as he nudged his head to the steps that led to their bedroom.

Seductive playfulness flashed coyly upon her lovely features. Pushing her hand upwards till her arms encircled his neck she slipped closer than ever into him. Tiptoe, she leaned upward to steal a kiss. "I think the occasion should allow-."

Ringing clanged raucously thought the house, rudely interrupting their tender togetherness. Both blinked at one another as the small instance of passion lay severed at their feet. Moment dashed, the Dark One rolled his eyes irksomely, his body astir with injustice. There was always something or someone in the way nowadays to deny him passion with his love.

The beauty chuckled unbelievingly toward the foul luck. "I'll get that." She nodded slowly, her lips a thin smile brimming with mischief. Ignoring the phone for a few seconds more, her clever fingers tugged at his black tie seductively. Eyelashes coyly obscured her azure depths as she toyed and pawed with the piece of clothing. "You on the other hand get anything you think we might need. I don't plan on us leaving that room any time soon."

Gleefully, the pair parted ways, one to the phone and the other to rummage up a few items to commemorate their second wedding properly.

Thumps hurriedly rapped upon the tiled kitchen floor announcing the Dark One's entry. With a vigor, he dove into cabinets searching for a few things to add flavor to their passion.

A victorious cry nearly burst from his widely smiling mouth as he found a bottle of honey to be the first item for his pile. He did so love when they could be alone and allow their wilder side to roam freely.

Belle walked in upon cats feet, barely making a sound as he delved into the closest closets and cupboards with a frenzied vigor.

"Who was on the phone?" He questioned absently, at the moment not caring in his search.

Only the rapid scuffling about in the cabinets supplied the room with noise after his inquiry. His Belle remained silent as stone, alerting him something was amiss. Suspicious, the fiend turned to face his wife.

An ashen pall had fallen over her face, banishing her normally peach tone skin of any color. Astonishment graced her large, azure eyes as she stared numbly at her love as though seeing right through him. A numb terror held her thrall as though ensorcelled in an enchantment.

"Belle?" He dropped the contents in his hand, now forgotten upon the counter. Panic sent his hear galloping like wild mares thundering in a relentless run. Why was she looking as through the entire world had been cut off?

"That was doctor Whale." She finally murmured in stunned tones. "Graham's dead…."

~8~8~

Light, gray rain poured plaintively from the charcoal smeared heavens, filling the land of Storybrooke with a dense, chilled mist that crept into the bones. Cold droplets shimmering in a silvery veil, gave the shire a melancholic sheen that mirrored the mood of the citizens of Storybrooke.

The desolate graveyard on the outside of the town proper finally had a new resident in its tranquil beds. The cemetery was a small affair; a dank little plot crowded by weeds, out of the town's sight and minds. The towering trees and tangled undergrowth of the wild forest sat abruptly at its fringes as though the barrier of one world to the next.

A small gathering crowded around the grave of Sheriff Graham solemnly. All wore black in the gray evening, each staring forlornly at the mounded earth over the beloved sheriff's casket.

Wreaths, bejeweled with rain droplets were planted in front of the grave along with the trench coat wearing pastor, and the closest thing he had ever had to family - Regina.

The Harpy stared teary eyed, almost remorseful at the wet, mounded earth as the preachers words drifted in a solemn monotone along the watery air. His dour, rickety voice seemed to carry along the mist laden ground to the very bowels of the earth below in his dirge like timbre.

Emma gazed down upon the grave site crushed. Her normal stony demeanor lay akin to dead, cold ashes as she longingly looked down like he would simply get up or walk beside her and ask her to play a game of darts. Out of all who attended, her pain was the most acute.

The final soul of the gathering that remained for the last rite, Rumpelstiltskin stood in his normal aloof, yet interested fashion with his cane planted in front of him at the end of the grave.

Impassable stone was carved upon his neutral face; never giving a hint of his carefully tucked away feelings lurking in the depths of his heart. Every so often he flicked cursory glances to Regina and Emma to measure their emotions and gauge their thoughts.

Certainly Graham had been in league with the queen, but not of his own volition. Personally, he'd never had anything against the broad shouldered sheriff, but his choice of deputy before Miss Swann.

As the service to lay the great hearted sheriff to rest came to a close, the shivering pastor wrapped his damp coat tightly about him and took his departure leaving only the three standing, miserable, mourning, and indifferent about the grave.

They seemed like living memorials looking down upon the mound to stand vigil as eternal guardians.

After tortuous minutes, Emma began the first to summon life back into her stiff, chilled limbs. Mud sloshed in all directions as the blonde marched a few wrathful steps to the Mayor.

Regretfully, the fiend could not catch any words, though by the fury creased upon the savior's features, he cold surmise the harsh words used upon the numb queen and the threat that tore past her gritted teeth.

In a morbid way, Graham's death had been a good thing. Now, solidified, the rebellious Swann was staying in Storybrooke for good. Her intuition whispered to her Graham's death had not been mere coincidence of a heart giving out though such would be impossible to prove.

With one last, sorrowful look to the mound of earth, the deputy departed her lonely trek to her yellow Bug. Sobs heaved quietly from her form; the only indication of her weeping the shuddering of her normally square, proud shoulders.

"So your majesty." The fiend inhaled the rustic scents deeply and paused to gather his words. Mist churned in wisps against the trampled grass and weeds, its heady scent carrying the aromas of moist earth and damp forest heavily prevalent about them. "Why'd you do it?" He finished thoughtfully and rocked on his heels.

She twirled her umbrella somberly between her black, gloved hand as though pondering every word that entered her ears. Her normally ruby red lips were a gray line etched surprisingly with regret. "That question is two fold." She deadpanned blandly, almost in disgust.

"Which is?" He prodded quietly. Rain began to hurtle harder to the earth almost as though nature itself was protesting their unscrupulous meeting upon the ground of the newly deceased.

Scorn and black fury fueled by her infamous jealously blazed in her jasper eyes. Her gloved hands wrenched tightly about the lacy parasols handle nearly splintering the wood. "I caught him with that…that…woman."

Rage simmered in her belly merely thinking of watching her little toy kiss the thorn in her side Emma Swann and then deny her the pleasure she sought when she called to him. He was hers and he had turned his back upon her like an unruly slave.

"Petty jealously." The Dark One mockingly mulled over the words as though in deep contemplation. A small, infuriating smirk perked at his lips. "Well, that does sound like your normal, M.O, but what, pray tell, is your other answer?"

"You know without the sheriff around the town could sink into lawless degeneration." Regina abruptly changed the subject, her voice businesslike and cool. Eyes of the hardest jade glared furtively at the dampened earth without regarding the Dark One for her blatant, dangerous words.

Such could never happen in the tiny county of Storybrooke they knew. The worst they'd ever had was Robin Hood's string of crimes and that had been well over two decades ago. It was a threat, thinly veiled, but a threat indeed.

The words were was assuredly meant for him, but so vague, he could not comment or parry her foul remark with any retort worthy of her horribly disguised alluding. She was willing to harm his Belle, if pushed, if Emma began to even remotely fathom her true destiny.

Steeping away from the grave, the harpy shrugged. "It would be a shame if our deputy was looking into other matters instead of keeping the town secure from ruffians and footpads. Who knows what sort of horrid acts could occur to the innocent."

He could have slain her then and there without a speck of remorse. In her eyes he could practically see the image of pregnant Belle spring to her cunning mind. His hand curled in a vice against his canes golden handle. Under his gloves, his knuckles were whiter than snow. Hatred glared hotly in his whiskey brown eyes like twin flames seeking to burn her to a charred crisp.

All he would have to do was bash her over the head until her skull cracked like a fragile egg and be rid of the threat of Regina for good. His wife and child would be safe and life would go on in Storybrooke. Perhaps there was another way to show Miss Swann her destiny without having the Harpy lurk about awaiting to enact misery.

He nearly, very nearly, struck out but stopped himself in time before even raising his muddied cane. His Belle's words rang through his mind like the church belles as they'd pealed for Graham's departure in the black hearse. He had promised, he had sworn to his wife to try and control his fears and not act to spill blood with danger lurking so near.

Wordlessly, the fiend trudged angrily through the muck in his limped gait, back to the little gravel path thrust through the graveyard, where his car sat. In such a brief moment, he knew imperatively, Belle's words and hopes controlled him far more than the cursed kris with his name engraved upon the blade ever did.

A smug smirk etched upon Regina's lips as she did not even bother with watching him leave. He would be worried, and for now, that was enough. A worried Rumpel, she knew insightfully, was one that made mistakes. A sickly, vile smirk sprang to her lips at the thought of the nefarious Rumpel making a hazardous error.

Abruptly, the mournful howl of a wolf bayed through the dreary air. The noise cut through the bleak hiss of rain as its tumbled to the earth like the sound of a war horn over the field of battle.

Fear shivered up Regina's spine as she jerked her head up swiftly in rousing alarm. Terror gripped her by the throat with its icy talons as her eyes widened.

A wolf, mountainous as a man, and white as the crisp full moon in the midnight hour of winter, lurked and prowled flagrantly upon the fringes of the soaked, desolate woods. Its eyes, two different colors or tranquil gold and feral scarlet stared sinisterly at her as though she were wounded prey. Slavering, silver fangs peaked out from its frothing snarling maw as a low growl rumbled from its throat. The creature born from the most unfathomable of nightmares slunk low to the ground, never taking its eyes off the witch as though knowing her crime.

Terrified, the mayor, turned to run. Her foot slipped upon the wet ground sending her sprawling in a aghast heap to the damp earth.

Mud and filth from Graham's fresh tomb liberally swathed her pallid face and natty clothing as though she'd bathed in the gunk. The soil from his resting place smeared across her form as though marking her with a stain that could never be washed.

As she scrambled up as best she could from the muck, the rich, clay like earth she mixed from her frenzied desperation to get away took on a blood red hue that soaked through every fibers of cloth dampened upon her trembling skin.

The silt, blood like earth seemed to mark her as though telling the murderer to the world and the blood she had spilt. Each granule of rock and pebble dug into her skin as though burrowing beneath her flesh.

With a strangled cry, nearly insane with terror, the mayor managed to rise to her quaking feet. Muck in the shade of the red tinged earth covered her entire body as she raced unashamedly to her car.

With every step she dared not look back as though the avenging angels or the ghost of her huntsmen were fast upon her heels.


	34. Troubles

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing guys and gals! Only a few more chapters to go! ^.^_

**~8~8~**

Just as the years of life ramble by, so to did the reawakened hamlet of Storybrooke begin its slow trek through time and change. The ice that once froze the cursed in eternities hardened grasp was trickling with glorious, frightening thaw. Spring finally dawned upon the winters of secluded, miserable souls drawing awake the hope and promise they'd once possessed from their world of long ago.

In little less than nine months, Storybrooke was introduced to many changes that began to crack the barricade the curse uplifted to keep those in its sinister grip enthralled forever. Emma became the official sheriff, though Gold was ostracized for his dirty hand in setting the mayors office in an inferno to help smooth her way into such a station, children were reunited with fathers, a stranger road into town hefting a strange box, and even Leroy was being drawn to his true love once more instead of the ale.

No matter what schemes Regina plied her hands to enact tothwart the tenacious Emma Swann, she was vastly losing ground with her cruel grasp over the accursed town and to matters worse, her son.

Belle too had changed in the months the clock upon the tower once more began to chime a gentle tune. No longer was she the shy, secretive wife, but the open mother to be who had no qualms kissing her husband or defending him at a notice be it from the townsmen who loathed his presence or himself who hated the darkness festering inside.

No one save her could see the goodness in him, not even himself. Day after day she battled back the fiendish imp who lurked in the morass of his entire being. Kindness scourged the beast like deluges of acid and tenderness was poison to the vile black blood making it red and human once more. Slowly she was purging the monstrosity so that one day all could see the diamond in the rough that he truly was.

"You shouldn't be dusting you know." Rumpelstiltskin whispered lovingly into his wife's ear. Tiny gray motes swirled and danced gaily about them as the beauty swished the duster back and forth along the grimy shelves on his pawn shop. Griminess from lack of care graced the shelves and marred them once more telling tale to her husband's filthiness and eternal unkempt habits whilst she was away.

Belle arched a flawless brow, but continued her assiduous cleaning. "And what should I be doing?"

"Resting." He supplied lowly, sounding akin to a whim of a thought. Lanky arms wrapped sinuously about her from behind engulfing her into him. His calloused hands splayed over her prominent, bulging belly that protruded from her body. "You should be home." A half mirthful sigh escaped his lips. "With me tending your every crave and desire."

Eight and a half months along and she looked more resplendent than ever in his eyes. A glow seemed to emanate from her very porcelain skin as though wanting to let the whole world know his child lay inside her.

Pain wrenched like a poisoned shank in his heart when he thought of all the parents he had bartered children from. How could he have once been so callous, even manically happy to ignore the agonizing wails of heart torn mothers whose babes had been ripped from their arms for bread and healing or the fathers who watched with stoic, taciturn tears their sons and daughters being scooped away from their protective arms.

In a way he was worse than the knights who sought to take Bae away and shove him into a battlefield. The soldiers at least would never have the heart to take away a squalling babe still being weaned upon its mother's milk straight from her arms without a hint of remorse.

Thinking back upon those horrid instances only sought to remind him of the beast he still was no matter what his Belle thought of him. She could polish him up or down in any way, but in the end, he was only a monster ill fitted in the flesh of a man.

Ignorant of his dour thoughts, a large smile bloomed upon her lips towards his words. He could be the sweetest of men when just the two of them. Arching her head back, she brushed his stubble jaw with a tender kiss unknowingly banishing his foul thoughts back to the recesses and leering pits they had crawled.. "Very noble of you, but I'm fine." She assured him in a soft laugh.

Despite the incessant throbbing in her feet and the urgent craving for tatter tots dipped in grape jam, she felt energetic and exuberant. The pregnancy had little difficulty and with her love at every beck and call, she was more than up to light dusting he seemed oblivious to.

A pleasant sound rumbled deep in his throat. "Fine you may be, but I think a small rest and a bit of lunch would seem rather ni-"

"Mr. Gold!" Henry blurted out the name of the most feared man in town as he burst in a panic into the Dark One's pawnshop. The bronze bell jangled crazily over the door as the boy erupted inside as though the hounds of hell were upon his heels.

Excitement and worry lay deep in his eyes as he gulped for air from his maddened run through the streets of Storybrooke.

The pair disentangled themselves in alarm, not from shame but of worry. Concern etched deeply in the Dark One's face towards the shaken lad. Plucking up his hawk nosed cane from an edge, the fiend limped hurriedly towards the boy. His knee scream in torment as he vapidly kneeled to be on eye level with the breathless child. "Henry, what's the matter?" He prompted in a quaking calm. Cunning eyes searched the lad, trying to gauge his desperation.

"It's Mary Margaret." Air wheezed from the ten years old in a rasp, telling the tale of his dead run. "She's been arrested for the murder of Katherine Noland."

"Mary Margaret would never do something like that." Belle interjected strongly, her duster long forgotten. Maneuvering past the counter she joined her husband to absorb the surprising news.

Over the years they had lived and worked in the accursed province, Mary Margaret was the kindest, gentlest soul in Storybrooke. Even falling in love with a married David Noland she had attempted to do the right thing by being away though she often lost to what her very soul yearned.

"That's why she needs your help, Mr. Gold." Henry gulped in obscene amounts of air. His shaggy wild hair lay ruffled about his head as he controlled himself. "You're the best lawyer in town, you can help her."

A thin, determined line traced Rumpelstiltskin's lips. "Well, I can see what's this whole mess is about." The determination faltered into something akin to tenderness as he stared at the boy. Henry at times reminded him of Bae; courageous and stoic with a ready smile. "I'll go down there and find out what's happened. In the mean time you stay here with Anna, and recover."

Henry nodded obediently, his breath flowing at a more vapid rhythm. At least, he reckoned with a hint of relief he had gotten to Mr. Gold, known for his expertise in getting out of sticky situations, such as getting away with mauling Moe French without a hint on his record.

With one last, deep, longing kiss to his wife, the fiend limped tirelessly towards the door, his mind awhirl with the possibilities of what had occurred. Of course Regina had some hand at play. Even if her actions were a minor role in the plot he had no doubt somewhere the mark of Regina lay upon the situation like a pulsing brand. The only question which remained was just how deep did her deplorable influence suffuse the situation.

"Ray." The beauty uttered his name tremulously just as he gripped his hand upon the door.

Disquieted, the Dark One turned back towards his love, his features awash with doubt.

Worry for him glimmered in her cobalt depths telling him all he needed to know. She tilted her head a mere fraction, as though watching something she had tended and nurtured like her garden he had first given her from long ago finally be free.

He was not the only one to suspect the harpy of treachery; the situation stank of Regina's foul presence like a carcass did rot. Both knew, perhaps Belle more than her love that dealing with the witch was a slippery slope for him. In order to win he would mayhap revert back to his beastly ways to gain an upper hand.

Surely she did not wish to see her work for naught.

A silent conversation held only with their eyes bandied back and forth solemnly. Hope and encouragement flashed in her eyes, lending him strength to his uncertainly lurking in the depths of his soul. She believed he could be strong though he doubted his tenacity as much as he did when he was nothing but a cowardly spinner.

Opening the door slightly, he managed a small, crooked smile to soothe his Belle. "I love you." He whispered and disappeared into the sunlight Storybrooke.

Relief swept through the beauty with such a simple phrase uttered from his lips. Ease flowed through her muscles making her shoulders slump and the anxiousness in her heart to quell the squeezing vice upon her soul.

He would try, she knew emphatically, sending a poultice to her heart. Even if he lost the battle to preserve what goodness they had toiled to grow within him, he would try with all his will not to succumb to the coaxing claws of the Dark One.

"We have to help." Henry's shaking voice severed her thoughts like a hot sword through snow. The boy gulped worriedly, his large brown eyes laden with fear. "If Mary Margaret is charged the queen will finally get her revenge of Snow White and ruin my moms parents love forever. It'll be disastrous; she might not even break the curse!"

How Belle wished to comfort him! Pain sparked to her heart as she bit her tongue to keep from spouting of words of condolences and tell him good always won!

She cast her gaze askance to avoid his intelligent peering eyes that might guess her open emotion. "My husband will do everything he can. But Henry, you have to understand, this is nothing from a story book. This is real. You're mom is mayor, not some evil queen and there is a missing person."

Guilt sparked like an ember upon oil soaked rags setting her soul ablaze with is conflagration. Subduing the urge to relate the truth down with a firm will the beauty turned back to her dusting.

One day he would understand why she kept the truth from him, what good would it do if she knew yet no one would believe them?

"But Belle, what if Rumpelstiltskin can't help her?" Henry protested, his tone worried and over alarmed.

The beauty huffed in mirth, in one terrible moment forgetting her guise. "Don't you worry about that Rum c-…can…."

Crimson suffused the beauty's cheeks dappling them a bright pink as she realized her catastrophic blunder. Her fingers curled over the duster tighter to keep her alarm in check. What words had just foolishly crossed her lips?

Rum and she often used their true names in private of their home. When they lay wrapped in one another's arms, dissolved entirely in burning passion, to speak their true monikers came natural instead of the curse given titles which made mockeries of their names.

Dust nearly choked the beauty as she slowly turned about. Alarm flashed in her azure eyes. No longer did there appear a worried ten year old, but a sly young man who'd taken advantage of a serious situation for confirmation. Somehow he suspected the Gold's knew of the precarious curse that held them thrall.

"You're Princess Belle." He smiled shyly, almost embarrassed for tricking her. His tennis shoes scuffed the wooden floor in little circular patterns as he looked down bashfully, his hands behind his back. "I'm sorry for tricking you, but don't worry, I won't tell…not that anyone would believe me anyhow."

She could have denied his claim, Belle reckoned inwardly. She could have scolded him or brusquely laughed him off. Her brow knit into thin lines as it often did whilst in pondering thought. What would lying to the boy help, but make him think what the rest of the town assumed now she had stumbled thus far?

Dabbing her dry lips nervously she cleared her throat of the clogging motes of dust. "I haven't been a princess in many a day." She admitted tenuously, gauging the waters for his reaction.

"But…but you were one…?" His voice held copious amount of awe as though stumbling upon some rare gem from ages past.

She shrugged before placing a hand to her back. Strain or being on her feet so long was beginning to take its toll. "A long time ago, before the ogre wars wrought havoc upon my kingdom and I sacrificed for them."

"So you're really from the different land?" He queried cautiously, making certain she was not mocking him.

Belle nodded slowly, not opening her mouth to reply.

The young man practically burst with excitement that exploded from his tiny bones. Racing to the counter he summoned all his will simply not to cavort in glee. "That's great! You can tell my mom and make her believe and…."

"That's just the problem, Henry." The beauty sighed dourly. Regret crinkled her porcelain features like a black cloud. "I can't make her believe. She must come to the conclusion on her own." A sardonic smile traced her pink lips as she added off handedly. "And besides, the town already thinks me mad for marrying Mr. Gold. They would truly question my sanity should I admit aloud I think I'm from a different world."

The boy's shoulders fell in disillusioned disappointment. Sadness washed his cherubic, once bright features, as he sighed and laid his forehead upon the cool glass. "I was afraid you'd say that. August suggested I come to you, but said it'd be no good, he already tried."

"August?" Belle echoed inquisitively. Letting the filthy, limpid duster hang limply in her hand, she turned about slowly. "The new guy in town?"

Henry nodded knowingly. "He's Pinocchio. He knows about the curse. He's been trying to help Emma see, but it isn't working."

"I see." Belle murmured thoughtfully, biting her bottom lip. In her mind she marked a mental note to report the new information to her Rum. Another in town knew of the curse and could come and go as he pleased past the town.

She forced a half hearted smile towards the young boy, who knew his fight was no longer alone. "Don't worry, Henry things are not always as bleak as they appear on the surface." Laughter, true and fresh bubbled from her lips at her own irconic words. "Believe me, I know."

~8~8~

A misty veil that crawled from the pounding surf of the salty wave fell over Storybrooke in the deadened night.

Gold sighed despondently as he limped lethargically into his huge home. Each step was flagged with fatigue and sorrow. He had tried. By every ounce of strength he had tried to fight off the tempting darkness within his soul.

Where everyone saw all arrows pointing to Snow White as Katherine murderess, he found a myriad of suspicious holes that did not coincide with the death at all. Yes, he could have easily gotten the kind hearted teacher off and saved her now smeared reputation, polishing her name back to a shining brilliance, but the chance to set up Regina was a lure he could not avert no matter how tenaciously Belle strove to tend to his goodness.

Regina, blind with searing vengeance so near would never see his cunning treachery stab her in the back. While she would look for his normal tricks, she would never know his intention when he aided her.

Of course, a bland frown pierced his thin lips as guilt shot as an arrow to his black heart, his Belle would be less than thrilled.

A single light burned in the kitchen as he maneuvered in his darkened manse. The golden glow was akin to an illuminating beckon lashing his soul with more poisonous guilt.

As if on cue, the gray hound, Bandit trotted towards him in greeting. His velvety wet nose sniffed the fiend as though knowing what had occurred. Both, oddly enough had a reasonable understanding about the other. His eerie human-like eyes seemed to ask 'what did you do' so accusingly the fiend turned his gaze.

"Rum." Belle soft, tender voice echoed through the shadow. His heart sprang to glorious life hearing her gentle tones laced with worry.

A mug of hot liquid rested in her hands close to her chest. Milky tendrils of steam wisped about her face like sinuous fingers as she stared at him through the shadow. Her thick mane was mussed about as though she had been laying in bed but unable to fall in repose.

The Dark One forced a smile. "You're still awake." He whispered as though his normal voice would disturb the child inside her.

"I couldn't sleep." The brave beauty divulged warily in a shrug. She took a precarious sip of her raspberry tea, hoping the warmth would add her strength. "I was worried, there is so much that's happened today."

"No need to worry." He lied. His eyes flashed a different matter, setting her suspiciousness off. With as much time as they had lived and loved as one she could gauge his falsehoods better than anyone.

Her voice dropped low, her voice melancholy. "We promised we wouldn't lie to one another." She reminded him quietly.

"I don't wish to worry you." He protested pathetically. His hand lifted to touch her flesh, but stopped ashamed of his falsehood.

"You lying is worry enough." She retorted quickly, her tones dour. For 27 years they had shared truths though some brought turmoil, and beat back the pain of things that could not be uttered or entrusted to the other. Her hand rested upon his arm gently, feeling the expensive fibers of his suit and wishing it was his skin. "Please. If you don't want to tell me then don't; I will respect that."

He sighed tiredly, shaking his head slightly, his feelings in roiling turmoil. "I don't desire to keep things from you, the other side to my heart." With a deep inhale he dredged up the least of his courage. "I…I'm helping Regina frame Mary Margaret."

"What…?" Belle breathed aghast in confusion. Her mind whirled with indecipherability. Why would he do such a thing, to aid the woman who had nearly destroyed them and threatened all they held dear to their souls?

He patted in the air helplessly to quell her rising emotions. "I'm helping her so that I can frame her in the end. Mary Margaret will come to no harm."

"Helping Regina, putting Mary Margaret through all this, framing…Rum how can you do this after all we've tried to do to thwart this type of thing." She spoke his name in a desperate sigh that belayed her agitation. "This is a slippery slope, you're dabbling in others lives, for what end?"

"The end that ensures our survival." He revealed staunchly, his tone not up for debate. Proffering his hand about them, he stared at her hard. "Have you not taken a look at a calendar lately or the clock tower? The time grows near when the savior will sever the bonds of the curse. When that time comes and people wake up what do you think will happen?"

Before she could deign a reply he answered his own inquiry. Flourishing his hand through the air, his voice turned stone serious. "They will be angry, furious, they will seek the blood of those who have damned them to this other world and stole their most precious things. They will come after me or Regina, and I shall not be the one in the hands of an angry mob, powerless."

Belle tossed her dark amber mane. With trembling hands she placed the mug on a nearby antique dresser. Her eyes seemed aglow like twin pools of the bluest waters in the shadow. "It doesn't have to be like that. This is not the way. You don't have to offer Regina up as a shield, or a way to display your power. There is always a better way!"

"Will you trust me?" He barked infuriatingly. Irksomeness dwelled in his hard chocolate eyes as he stared at her fiercely. "This will all work out, I promise. Once the curse is broken and I have my ma-."

At that moment he could have cut off his foolish, intemperate tongue then and there. Why after all the years they had been together did he then nearly slip the secret?

Belle's brows furrowed confusedly as though finding out some abhorrent secret. In an instant horror engulfed her eyes as she put the pieces together to form his thought. "You're what…magic…you were about to say magic weren't you?"

Shame mingled with the seething of inward anger flickered like flames through his belly. He looked away unable to face the untrusting disbelief that wallowed in her azure depths. "Be reasonable, Belle. I can keep us safe with magic once people awake. Did you truly think I would not want my powers back after 28 years of having to live like one of you again."

With his magic once more they'd have nothing to fear. They'd not want for anything and be respected and rightfully feared throughout the land by even the stateliest of queens and kings.

"At what cost?" She asked breathlessly. Her delicate hands curled over his arm for strength. "You know the dear price magic boasts; what the vile powers demands. Who knows what will happen once you have your power back."

Why did he need such repulsive powers she wished to query but bit back the inquiry stoically. Prodding him in such dire straights would never lend her a true answer.

"With magic I can find my son." He argued tenaciously. "I'll be able to protect you without having to slink around like this mortal thing any longer." He grasped both her hands gently, encompassing them with his large calloused own. "Don't you want that?"

Sorrow marred her eyes. She tenderly kissed his rough knuckles, sending a wave of comfort through his gangly form. "I want my Rumpelstiltskin. I do not want the thing he becomes when magic takes root in him, the thing that doesn't think himself human."

"You won't lose me, Belle." He whispered solemnly. "I will not fall back into the monster I once was. I've changed, for you, for Bae, and for my unborn child." His hand combed through her hair pressing her close to his body.

Anxiously she laid her head against his slowly rising chest. Closing her eyes she tried to find the normal comfort in his arms, and yet failed. In his warmth she could feel the wisps of darkness like thin mist brushing her flesh.

If only she could believe him, the beauty supposed sadly. He swore an oath upon his soul to change for her, and his children, but what of himself, did he not wish to change for his own sake?


	35. Desperate Measures

_A/N: I will not spoil anything for anyone, but I must say this. Last week a bit of the squealing fan-girl inside me died from the last few minuets of the episode. Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing! ^.^_

**~8~8~**

"It's all going to lead back to me, isn't it?" Regina blinked numbly in abject, startled surprise. The truth struck her corrupted mind viciously, finally coming to terms with the treacherous dagger which lay buried hilt deep in her back. She spoke in wavering awe that displayed her utter shock; not quite understanding, but knowing what had occurred.

Realization tattooed her pallid features with the knowing that after all she schemed to frame Mary Margaret and disillusion the infuriating Swann, she was doomed to fail once more by the fiend whom she thought had a common enemy between them.

Her unblinking gaze fell starkly, almost disbelievingly upon the grizzled face of the slightly smirking Dark One. Everything made sense now that her plot was lying crumpled in the dust and a haggard, ill kept Katherine Noland was found behind Granny's Diner wandering in drugged delusion.

"The heart, the key, everything will be traced back to me…." She stammered, putting the pieces together.

Rumpelstiltskin drummed his gloved fingers along the golden handle of his hawk nosed cane in a light hearted, jaunty rhythm. His dark brown eyes glinted with a cunning he had known in another life he relished so just as his malevolent powers. "Did you actually think otherwise? After all you've done you truly believed I would earnestly conscript and cast my lot with you?" He inquired mockingly. His weathered brow arched slightly as though truly wishing her to answer though they both knew the truth.

"Why?" The word seethed past her glossed carnelian lips in barely subdued fury. Curling her hand into a tight fist she struck at the wall with all her roused fury. "Why after all this would you betray me so?"

Had they not found alliance in a common foe? Did he not enjoy this world and all the amenities she had gifted him with the curse? To simply betray her on a whim was not part of his normal tact.

He leaned towards her so that their faces were mere inches apart. Tensions and hate between two old foes rumbled tenuously betwixt them as thuder did the roiling clouds.

The nauseous stench of her perfume forced itself down his nostrils as he whispered infuriatingly right in her blanched features marred with a pathetically hidden panic. "You're a smart woman, Majesty. Figure. It. Out."

"I refuse to belive this is all about protecting your little slave girl and your bastard from my power." Regina parried, her glossy crimson lips pried back in a revolting sneer. "I though we had an understanding nigh 8 months ago."

Oh indeed his betrayal delved far deeper than her assumption to keep his wife and child safe, but she would never know; not 'til they were back in their old world and he had Bae and his Belle with their child in tow and she was either buried in an unmarked grave or strung up in a gibbet for her crimes.

"You're _power_." The Dark One scoffed tauntingly, the word amusing him like a child who spoke incredible, impossible things. Happiness and darkness both sparkled in his eyes in a tenuous mix as he tossed his head pityingly. He pointed a gnarled finger to her. "No, no, you see my wife will always have more power than you. She has me and therefore your power is worthless drivel. Enjoy your control whilst you can for at the rate things are going you could find yourself more in a dungeon than in a police cell."

He barked a cruel haughty laugh, turned and limped away as though she were no importance leaving the witch standing pert and prim and bristling with fiery indignation at the shop counter alone.

Beads jangled slightly over the door to the dim back room, telling the tale of his victorious departure, head held high. He practically swaggered with each limping stride. His plotting was near done now that Snow's good name was being cleared and the Sheriff was hot on Regina's trail as a blood hound would be a foxes scent. Soon the truth would be known and Regina abjectly humiliated among a curse free Storybrooke.

A sly smile snaked upon Regina's lips as he disappeared in fine form. He honesty thought she would not consider his treachery so blinded in the scorching glow of her hatred.

Living as a monster in men's flesh had culled his savagery to a pathetic husk of his former darkness. He grew weak with the waning beastliness his wife managed to dampen with her frailties of love and affection she lavished upon him.

Her heels clicked sharply as she began to leave. Digging out her phone from her dark leather purse she tapped a few keys to an old number she'd not used in months, a number she often detested when she dialed upon the disreputable person on the other end.

"Guy Stone." She smiled vilely as the name crossed the threshold of her lush lips. "How would you care for a bit of revenge?"

~8~8~

"There." Bell remarked victoriously as she put the last item in its proper place. Her fingers expertly arranged the final stuffed toy in the nursery room for their child upon the whitewashed window seat.

The nursery, once her loves ominous study, more akin to his foul apothecary, was miraculously transformed from the dull, somber hues of mournful burgundy and the uncomfortable seats and dank lightening of old.

A summer sky blue painted the walls cheerily with small tuffs of puffy clouds brining a spring like freshness to the once abyssal chamber. Upon the widows huge sheer white drapes rustled in the fresh wind to match the room. Air gusted in soft whispering zephyr's that shifted the curtains, bringing in the oblique sunlit shafts of day pouring in like gold dancing upon the floor.

A changing station already equipped with mountains of diapers sat on one side of the room. Near to the changing area a cradle commissioned and carved expertly by Marco lay drenched in the honeyed sunlight.

The baby bed was a beautiful rowan wood cradle polished to a shine with little animal figures craved in the stout wood gallivanting hither and thither in their own adventures. Even her normally grouchy love had to admit the cradle was fine work. Marco did of course have a way of bringing wood to life.

A small stack of children's books lay nestled in the one remaining bookshelf waiting to alight a child's mind with adventure. The beauty looked forward to reading to her child and filling his mind with fantasy and fact.

On the floor one large dog bed for the ever rambling Lady and Bandit sat close to the door. The two, intelligent and noble animals would protect the child more than any ever could, if of course they ever stopped going out on their lonesome to cause havoc in Storybrooke.

Stuffed animals in a menagerie of colors and shapes filled the window seat from fuzzy, button eyed bears to plush giraffes all ready for a child to love them and play.

Though the entire room was a magnificent place for a small babe, the one thing the beauty truly adored was the ancient wooden rocking chair. Granny gifted the seat to her at her baby shower months ago. The wood was a rich oak, with an upholstered seat of checkered blue and white gingham stitched by hand.

A treasure from their old world.

Belle smiled fondly as she trailed her clever fingers against the grain of the smooth wood. If they remained longer in this strange new land, at least, she would have something from their old realm with them.

She imagined rocking slowly in the perch to lull their babe to sleep all the while whispering to their child of the rolling emerald hills and the rambling mountain ranges misty with mystery and foreboding of their home.

She would speak the tales of the foul ogres and how the kingdoms men and women drove them back to their wretched marshes in the dim of the world, and wizards and knights and warriors who strove to keep the people safe from what terrors sprung forth. She would teach them of the good and the bad of their realm so that their child wouldn't feel to much of a stranger from the land they hailed.

"Beautiful room." A rough, burly voice remarked unimpressed, abruptly startling the beauty from her promising day dreams.

Belle twirled about quickly at the sound of the voice she'd been fortunate enough not to hear for months. Her heart hammered fitfully in surprise and fear at the sudden presence that was less than welcome in their home.

Guy Stone looked more monstrous and huge than ever before in Belle's eyes. He looked more akin to a bear than man. His normally clean kept face was fuzzy with the thick growth of a tangled reddish brown beard. Cold gray eyes once clear and haughty were bloodshot and murderous. Muscles rippled from his towering figure making him seem a giant in the quaint baby's room that hosted only love and peace while he crackled with violence.

Stone had kept a low profile since he had been unabashedly fired his job by the late Graham who could never truly recall why he hired the bullying lout in the first place. After all his protest, he slunk off like a beaten dog to sulk over losing the job he loved and the power that came attached with such a vaunted position.

When Graham passed he'd never even made an inquiry to rejoin the force. Instead he dwelled alone in his family cabin of old in the dark of the woods barely coming back into town. His rash actions with Moe French had humiliated him and if one thing that could pierce the tough, war hardened flesh of Guy stone then assuredly humiliation was the blade to score the fierce blow.

The beauty gulped nervously, though her miniscule figure stood bravely and emanated offence at his flagrant trespassing. "How did you get in here?" She demanded to know. "What do you want?

"Revenge." The former deputy marked plainly. His broad shoulders heaved in a careless shrug as he dangled a single skeleton key allowing entry into the Dark One's manse temptingly between his thick fingers. Though he was a bear of a man, years as a hunter parented his skill in stealth.

A cruel grin slashed across his face as he took one large, thudding ominous step in the door. "We would have been the perfect couple, Anna." He continued with every slow, savoring step that prodded desperate fear in her heart. His eyes lit in vile delight at the terror behind her courage. "The quarterback and the prettiest girl in high school go on to be man and wife; small town dream. We would have had six or seven strapping boys, and our lives would have been perfect." Abruptly, his face darkened with horrid memories. A snort of fury like a bull about to charge billowed from his nostrils. "But no, you had to lay on your back for that ugly cripple. You'd rather foster his bastard than be with me, filthy whore!"

Belle backed up with every large, foreboding step he thundered towards her. Disquiet welled uneasily within her as she marked the crazed glint in his eyes through the blear of to much beer. Though the room was large, in moments he was much to close.

Her back bumped against the edge of the window seat telling her there was no more room least she dared a leap out of the window. Wildly, her fingers searched for something, any item to defend herself and yet only the plush velvet of toys met her hands.

She looked her former boyfriend in the eyes unwaveringly, going against him with absolutely nothing but courage. Fight she would gave, had there only been one life to look after. "Guy, my husband wont let you get away with this; you know what he's capable of. You lay one hand on me and he'll have your head."

"He won't be able to do anything if he can't find me or you." Stone retorted evilly in a low snarl. Slipping a hand in his pocket he drew forth a knife. The blade glinted in the sunlight ominously. "Now you can come with me peacefully so nothing will happen to your child, or things can get rough and well accidents can happen."

The frightened, yet brave beauty fought back a gasp of terror. Swallowing hard what felt akin to a mountain lodged in her gullet, she nodded docilely at his request. Her hand flew to her belly as though to protect the babe any way she could. "You always were a coward, Guy, ready to fight a pregnant woman than someone even close to challenging you. I'll come peacefully." She promised hollowly every word drenched with hate and spite. "But…but where are you taking me?"

His hand curled cruelly around her upper arm in an unbreakable vice. The veins upon his hands protruded like thin blue cords as he relished in the pain he bestowed upon her as his grip tightened akin to an iron band.

Heated foul breath assaulted her cringed, pain twisted face as he whispered manically. "You were crazy to refuse me Annabelle, and do you know where crazy people go…?"

~8~8~

Fuzzy, comfortable warmth sat under the Dark One's wiry fingers. Rumpelstiltskin grinned proudly as he gave the soft blanket one last look over with his keen spinner's eye.

The small wrap was a rich golden tint made from a fleece from their old world he'd gotten off an explorer named Jason. Now, his grin widened to an ear to ear smile, the supple, legendary fur would belong to his new son.

Of course they had not inquired about the babe's sex from Doctor Whale, but Belle felt most assured the child would be a boy. She could 'sense' the gender in her bones like an omen. Women, even in their strange new land still had a way to foretell certain things without an oracle or scrying bowl. Some times they simply knew, adding to the great mystery that was the female species.

Just as his Belle was certain the child would be male, the Dark One felt confident Bae would have no qualms with a little brother once he was found. He had oft longed for sibling, but after Milah ran away there was not a chance, for no one would dare throw their lot in with the town coward. But soon that would all change. Bae would have a father who could give him everything including control over his powers and the family he wished for.

The sound of the bell jingle merrily above his shop door abolished his joyous thoughts of home and family and burned them to char.

"Rumpel dear." Regina's vile voice seemed to slither through his shop like a snake did tall grass.

Folding the home made blanket away, the fiend stashed the fine, once magical cloth in a wooden box with another precious item that glowed a vibrant purple.

A displeased huff of disbelief spat past his lips as he turned about. Annoyance traced his features but he managed a small, false smile. "Well, majesty let it never be said you are a quitter." He placed his hands against the counter, smiling tritely. "What can I do for you now?"

"Just listen." The preening harpy replied easily disquieting the magical fiend. Not often did Regina get over betrayal or slight so easily unless she planned another recourse.

Strutting the few steps to the cluttered register, the Madame Mayor laid a nondescript phone upon the counter. Tapping one button the phone alit and with it setting Rumpelstiltskin's heart abalze.

Screams that sent Goosebumps crawling along his flesh like insects crackled over the receptor pleading for him. Every so often the name Ray would change to Rum confirming his worst fear.

A slap or two rang out from the background making the Dark One flinch as though he received the blows upon his skin. His own body prickled at the sound of torment upon the line, his mind running wild with what was happening.

"Scream!" The voice in the background demanded in a sinister, barbaric growl. Another sharp slap echoed over the line. "Scream for your filthy cripple, Whore!"

Belle, his Belle.

Icy dread pierced his heart like an arrow had been plunged into the very center of his being. Rage and fear all coalesced in his form at once battling for domain. In a flash his hand shot out to grab the phone to perchance track the number or threaten who ever was harming his love to stop, but Regina was the quicker.

Snatching up the phone she ended the call before dropping the cell to the floor. Plastic keys and glass cracked beneath her high stiletto heel as though cracking the hard heart of the Dark One to the tender flesh beneath.

Narrowed eyes stared furiously at the witch who smirked surreptitiously at her adversary.

"You'll die for this; harming my Belle a second time." Rumpelstiltskin murmured lowly, his voice caught between a hoarse cry of terror for his love and a growl of pernicious fury. A snarl wrenched upon his features as he fingers gripped the counter to keep from grabbing the malicious witch by her throat.

The harpy snorted an irksome laugh which sent his blood roiling. "Doubtful." She rebuffed easily and flicked her hand towards him as though he were an annoying gnat. All the cards were in her hands and they both knew it. "Your little slave girl clipped your claws and pulled out your fangs long ago, Rumpel. You grew lax thinking the fear you had nurtured for so long in everyone would keep you secure. Freely, you allowed her to put a collar on the beast and make you behave like some house broken pet. Caught up in what you once were and who you were trying to make yourself be, you honesty didn't think I would go this far."

"Where is she?" His voice was like a dagger of ice shot from between his thin lips. Death flashed steely in his chocolate brown eyes, promising her crimes would not go un-avenged.

Regina clapped her hands impertinently childishly like his anger was merely a fun little game. "Time to make a deal, Rumpel old friend."

"No deals! Where is Belle!" Anger flared to blistering life inside his form overrode the frigid deluge of horror. His curled hand slammed into the glass counter violently. Small winding cracks snaked upon the panes telling the tale of his fathomless rage.

"Give me a way to thwart Emma Swann." She countered with a sigh, completely unimpressed by his beastly fury. The ground she treaded was perilous indeed, but with his love and child in her grip, she couldn't truthfully make herself belive he would try anything to risk their lives or even one of their souls.

With a curse he spat callously. "Kill her, simple as that."

"My dear do you think me so dim?" Regina scoffed in amusement. "I don't know what that will do. The last thing I desire is for her to perish as a martyr and shatter the curse with her spilled blood. No, all I want is to incapacitate her…permanently."

His eyes shifted away angrily, hate smoldering like embers in his orbs. "Then I have no other recourse for you, now let my Belle go."

"Oh no, you do have another option for me, or you will find one." The witched smiled a sinister grin that split her face in a demonic smile. "You find a way or I will get my associate to cut that child out of her and let her bleed out." She lifted a thinly plucked brow almost in challenge should he dare speak otherwise.

Talons of sheer terror squeezed Rumpelstiltskin's black heart until his aorta was nothing more than bloody pulp twitching in his belly. She was capable and ruthless enough, he knew. She would do it simply to make him mad with grief for the rest of his days. To lose his Belle, to lose his child….

"What you're asking is for magic." He shook his head repentantly. "Magic is unpredictable in this world. It comes with prices beyond our ken."

Although the worst time, revelation struck the Dark One like a bolt of lightening. Had not Belle once said the same to him? And now she was paying dearly.

Regina planted her hands palm down upon the cracked counter, uncaring of the risk. She leaned forward conspiratorially, no nonsense left in her foul timbre. "To have Emma Swann out of the way and my power unquestioned once more is a price I am fully willing to pay no matter the cost."

"And if I help you, you will set Belle free?" He asked darkly. Before his eyes he could see his works all being for naught, but that was before he had made allowances for Belle, before he thought he would fall in love with his curious, gorgeous slave, before he knew he was to be a proud papa once more.

"Of course." Regina nodded astutely. "With Emma out of my hair it will be business as usual. But, for security reasons, you can surly understand I won't hand her over until I'm certain what you give me will do the job."

Of course she wouldn't, the impish fiend cursed lowly under his breath. She was once apprenticed to the best deal maker in all the realms; another plot he was fast coming to regret.

Turing about, the magical monster pulled a dusty oblong box from a cubby behind the register. The wood was cracked and warped with endless age and the lock was a thick, heavy steel kind found from years long past into the dusty annals of man. Taking out an antique key the fiend fiddled with the box before bringing out its content.

Whirling about vapidly, he dourly produced the one thing that would do the trick.

One prefect bite marred the flawless fruit the fiend held out to Regina. "This never lost its potency. I collected it after you poisoned Snow White. The curse upon it is strong enough to perform what you seek."

"Brilliant." She hissed breathlessly, her eyes aglow with fiendish merriment. Her claw like hands snatched up the vile apple quickly from his grip. Cradling and coddling the apple in her hands, a smile once more played about her face.

Her skinny fingers trailed over the glossy skin of the apple tenderly as though recalling the foulness she had imbued carefully within its succulent flesh. "This will do nicely; expect your wife to be released once the curse is struck Swann down."

Misery and pain laced the Dark One's features in delicious torment as Regina viewed his agony. Whatever plots he had designed would all come undone. How could he ever dare think to trick and win over her genius?

"One last thing…." He nearly begged.

~8~8~

Belle sat miserably upon the rectangular cement ledge of an off white, padded five by five room. Tendrils of her rust colored hair obscured her face. Her legs curled up as far as they could as she clutched her stomach. No bruise or mar lay upon her porcelain face, for not even the brutish Gaston was so stupid.

In the event that Gold did find her, he would not risk torture for having lain hands upon the Dark One's mate. Instead he had forced her to scream, while threatening to hurt the child inside her belly if she refused.

Even at the though, the babe squirmed inside of her as if in fear at the remembrance of the long, jagged knife being pointed at her stomach. The terror that washed over the mother had been given to the baby as well. Even now the child shifted with unease.

"Hush now." Belle whispered disparagingly in the grayness that encompassed the room. Looking down, her delicate hands stroked her bulging belly as she tried to banish the tears that brimmed her eyes. "Don't you fear, your Papa is a smart, brave man. He'll find us."

And yet so many more worries remained. What did Regina gain by capturing her and tossing her in some old cell? How would her capture effect her love?

The thick iron door groaned with decades of ill use abruptly, sending Belles heart spiraling to her throat with trepidation and excitement. Was it he, had he come to rescue them? Hope reared hot and joyous in her soul like a gout of flame rising to the heavens only to crumple away moments later.

A cold faced Regina tramped a few steps inside primly. Her face scowled fiercely at the beauty as she stared at her unafraid but wary, not for herself but the defenseless life inside her.

"What do you want? The beauty demanded bravely, her hands around her middle protectively.

Regina's eyes flashed ruthlessly, but with a tinge of mercy in her teal depths. "He wanted you to have this." She revealed simply, her voice devoid of emotion and bland like a bad taste.

Carelessly, the witch tossed the golden blanket in the cell before slamming the door once more leaving the world a deplorable gray smear.

The small cover pooled beside the beauty, who hastily scooped the blanket in her arms like the last treasure of earth. Holding it close she buried her face in the soft, fluffy fibers her husband worked so hard to weave for their child. Each thread smelled of him and his toil in making something so personal for their child. It was a message; he was fighting for them, looking out for them.

"He'll come." Belle smiled sadly as she held the blanket close. Tears brooked freely from her eyes as she sobbed into the blanket wishing he was there to take her in his arms.

Her hand tremulously fell once more to her stomach were a sharp pain stabbed her belly. Fire flared through her body with an intense agony she'd never fathomed. Despite her harrowing situation, a desperate laugh tumbled past her pink lips as she felt dampness beneath her.

She stared down at her bulging belly as another pain stuck her harder than the last. "Yes, he'll come, and…I…I think you're coming as well."


	36. The Choices of One

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing you awsome people. Note, this chapter is a tad longer. You've been warned :)_

**~8~8~**

Nestled obscurely in the deep shaded glades that encompassed Storybrooke, with their thick coppices and extensive brambly undergrowth, Guy Stone arrived home in a fine humor.

The once well tended hunting lodge he'd kept in season lay in pitiful disarray. Drained beer bottles scattered across leafy lawn, if the small gray patches and sparse sprigs of wilting grass could be called such, along with crumpled wrappers and other filth not bothered to be neatly discarded.

Stone whistled happily to himself as he marched up the leaf strewn gravel leading to his home; feeling more alive than he had in months. A spring deviously flourished in his step for his unscrupulous actions. Finally, after brooding and losing himself in dour repose, he at last succeeded in making Anna's and Gold's life difficult and miserable!

Unlocking his cabin, the former deputy nearly did a jig of malevolent glee as he crossed inside the dank lodge. To see the look on Anna's face was all worth the months tending his surly lust for vengeance into an inferno. None could cross Guy Stone and not receive due pain, he preened cockily to himself.

Whatever Regina planned to do with her, he at least was content with the hand he played.

The inside of his wrecked home was nearly impossible to see without light. With a flick of his hand he fumbled on a switch, abruptly to be met with sharp fangs.

A hulking, gray dog, more akin to a wolf in the eyes of the stunned Stone, leapt upon him savagely. Slavering fangs clamped over his burly, muscular arm and sank to the bone, piercing his skin as easily as a hot knife did butter. Claws, like fine damask daggers ripped into his camouflage clothing shredding the tough fibers with a frightening ease to find the tender flesh beneath.

The beast's eyes were a crazed gray flecked with scarlet unlike anything the shocked Stone had ever witnessed before. There was almost a murderer staring at him in place of a rabid hound.

A cry of surprise and agony erupted the former deputy's lips. The bulk of the dog made him keen over hard upon his back to the littered, dusty floor. Tears sprang to his eyes as he tried in vain to maneuver the dog from biting and digging into his flesh. With every move or jolt only made the canine claw or snap deeper into his flesh.

Whilst he fought a losing battle with the foaming hound, a figure suddenly shadowed over him like the shade of death itself.

Rumpelstiltskin stared down callously at the vulnerable hunter without his guns or strength. His jaw set tightly without a hint of pity for the profusely bleeding moron being mauled.

"You thought I wouldn't recognize your voice on the phone?" He cocked his head slightly to the right, his eyes icy slivers of glinting hate. "You didn't think I would come for you, Stone?"

"C-call the dog…off!" Guy pleaded pathetically in panic and torment.

Gold whistled once and nudged his head to the side, making the dog obey. The enraged hound dutifully, if not reluctantly dislodged his jagged flashing fangs and claws from the miserable mass of flesh, but did not wander far.

Blood dripped steadily from the hounds maw, making the beast seem more of the wolf than the dog as he slunk into a corner, his eyes never once leaving his prey.

A cry of pain tumbled pathetically from Guy's lips as blood bubbled far too freely from his wounds. His uninjured hand clamped about the dribbling bite marks scored on his arm. Warm blood dribbled through his fingers to stain his torn clothing as he writhed miserably. Somewhere, the dog's claws had dug into something vital sending wracking pain shuddering through his form.

"Where is she, Stone?" The Dark One demanded through clenched teeth. He seemed to loom over the burly Guy as vultures did a dying animal awaiting their last breath. "Tell me and your end will not be filled with torment. I won't lay a hand on you."

Spittle foamed at the edges of Stone's blood flecked mouth. His eyes were wide with terror as he shook his head, never once taking his gaze off Gold. He gulped once, the pain temporarily forgotten compared to the icy wrath in the Dark One's eyes. "I didn't do anything to her, I swear! I never laid a hand on her! Regina told me to make you think I was hitting her! I was a little rough with her, but I'd never lay my hands on your wife!"

"Where is she?" Gold ground out again through his gritted teeth, his patient and calm waning swiftly like sand shifting through fingers. A devious air took him thrall, transforming him into something the dull lout thought he recalled from a long time ago.

Stone breathed heavily, his barrel chest rising like a forge bellow. "I don't know! Regina had me pull off that fake hitting stunt in a shed by the wharf. I left her there with a sack over her head and someone else came to get her I think. That's all I know!"

Of course, Gold raged inwardly. Regina was a sly, clever snake with the heart of a demon. Never would she allow such a weak minded buffoon such as Guy Stone anywhere near her real tactics so his puny mind could sully her plots with his infectious idiocy.

She hid her tracks well and doubly so knowing with exactly whom she was dealing with and how dangerous a rope she walked. Trying to find Belle would be akin to finding his way out of a labyrinth blindfolded.

"If you left anything out…." He let the dire threat hang tenuously. Any scrap of information could be a vital key to locating his love. Regina so loved her games of cunning and wit even in the direst of circumstance. She might have left a trail even a small one for him to trace.

For a moment the former deputy searched his limited mind with as much intellect as he could summon, his eyes wild with bumbling his slow thoughts. "There was one more thing. She said she was taking your wife to an insane asylum out of town where she could recover from your brainwashing her. She has to be long gone now, so please I truly don't know anything else."

Gold looked down icily upon the bleeding bulk of muscles and strength bleed like a stuck pig at his feet. He was telling the truth, he knew by reading the dunces face; there was nothing new to learn.

"Thank you for your time, Stone." The dark fiend remarked oddly polite as though just closing a profitable business deal. Turning his back from the wounded Guy, he began to limp for the door all the while avoiding the pools of glossy blood with an expert skill and grace.

"So…so you're not going to kill me?" Guy breathed sharply in first vast disbelief than relief. He had been so certain his life was about to end at the vengeful hands of the monster Gold.

"Oh no, Mr. Stone, I gave you my word; I'm not going to lay a hand upon you." He walked out the door, leaving a crack in big enough for an animal to pass. "My friend Bandit on the other hand…he's protective of his mistress." With that he disappeared from the doorway almost as though he had never been.

Terror seized the brute in frigid, horrifying claws slashing his very being. Growls like low pealing thunder emanated from his left, drawing ever near to his ear.

The hairs upon the back of his corded neck danced upon end, sending thrills of fright winding through his body and freezing his nerves. Wordlessly, the hunter turned his head vapidly where the noise hailed almost as though an invisible hand moved him upon will.

Bandit's bloodied fangs glinted from behind pried back lips stained a sickly vermilion with gore. His hackles were low like a wolf about to set upon its prey and his eyes sat ghastly riveted with murder in their human like depths towards the former deputy.

One last cry of petrified fear erupted sharply from Gaston's mouth as the wolfhound snapped his jaws about the hunters jugular with a vice crushing hold.

Blood spurted like a morbid fount from Stone's neck. His artery's burst opened letting a torrent of blood spill from his madly twitching form. In one bite, Bandit crushed his windpipe under the snapping fangs, silencing him forever after.

~8~8~

Where could she be! Gold slammed open the door to his shop with a barbaric force. The bell atop the door broke from its perch tumbling at his feet; rolling back and forth wildly.

Much too concerned to note the break, he kicked the item to the side and swiftly hobbled over to the counter with as much speed as his maimed limb would allow.

An insane asylum? He repeated the words of Guy Stone over and over in his mind. What riddle did Regina set before him to taunt his frustration and rouse worry? No one could leave the town and there was not an insane asylum in all of Storybrooke.

His long, wiry talons gripped his skull angrily, trying to make himself think harder. What was her game, what did she…?

"Gold!" Emma Swann's voice rang like a bell of hope through his shop.

"We need your help, Rumpel." Regina joined in urgently, her steps right behind the sturdy thuds of the sheriff.

The Dark One nary even attempted to hide his anger and disgust. His features twisted furiously towards the witch. "Help from me? After you kidnapped my wife and child!"

"Henry is sick." Emma stood face to face with the magical monster. Worry laced her lined face, making her seem older, like an anxiously parent. "He ate the apple turnover meant for me, and now, he's…"

"Dying, Miss Swann." Gold concluded icily. The fact that Emma now knew of the curse seemed of little consequence without his Belle. He turned to the harpy who lingered behind the savior like some vile shade. "I told you, all magic comes with a price, did I not."

Eyes ablaze with wroth she countered proudly. "Henry shouldn't have to pay."

"No, you should, twice over for your treachery." He snarled hatefully, his sneer laced with loathing. "And now you come seeking my advice and wisdom on how to relieve the curse."

Emma interjected before Regina could utter a word. "Look, my sons life is in danger, I need to know how to fix this."

"You won't know anything until I get what I want." He replied, yet kept his eyes pinioned directly upon Regina. "Where is my wife?"

"His wife, Anna?" Swann pivoted to the witch in confusion. Just what meddlesome acts had Regina been delving into?

Regina regally ignored the surprised Emma as though she were once more in her queenly station and the bounty hunter no more than a serf. For a moment indecision caught in her teal eyes. If her whereabouts where brought to light, there was no halting Gold from assuming his revenge and continuing whatever plot he had been nursing for countless years. Her reign would end, the curse sundered, and her life in peril from an awakened folk.

Gold growled fiercely, his hand curling in a vice over his cane. "Tell me, majesty, or your son dies."

"Mr. Gold…Rumpel-whatever-your-name-is, his life is slipping away as we speak." Emma pleaded, her fastidious façade of stone crumbling to the foundation. "Every second counts for him, please, tell us how to cure him. I'm begging you."

For a moment, the beast was struck with pity; pity he never knew as the Dark One. Belle had rocked Henry as a child, they had watched him grow and now his mother pleaded for his life.

Though Belle was somewhere captured by his foe, she, he knew instinctively, would have wanted Henry to be saved. Yet how could he allow such, when half his heart was stashed away by the vile witch?

Despite what the fetid darkness in his form which whispered to be unyielding and merciless, the hardened carapace that blacked his heart began to soften. Even in pain, even with the malicious evil roiling inside, the love and compassion Belle always bestowed upon him came surging to life for a moment, shattering the foulness.

"True love, Miss Swann." The fiend haltingly relinquished the vital information. "It's the only magic that transcends all realms, and luckily I happened to have bottled some." Dipping under the counter he produced a long, dusty sword case and explained to the surprised. "Long ago I commissioned your father to place such a precious item in a place even I would be hard pressed to secure it once more; the belly of a dragon, Maleficent by name."

Startled by the revelation, Emma blinked numbly as the Dark One pried open the case with a long, cringing creak. A sword glimmered in the same care and sheen it once held a life time ago.

She stammered, uncertain of his words. "A dragon…where did you manage to hide a dragon?"

"The only place no one ever goes." Gold replied with a wan smile. "Under the library." Closing the case swiftly he shoved the box towards her. "Now you must go, hurry."

Regina took a step forward utterly confused. Rumpelstiltskin never gave such information away with out a cost, and to add with his loved ones in dire peril. "Why are you doing this?" She inquired, her brow furrowing suspiciously. Did he so badly desire to see her thwarted?

The magical monster looked away. Darkness gnawed and scolded him for such rash actions and giving into the weakness of his soul brightened by his love. "Belle would have wanted me to." He whispered hollowly. "She would have said it was the right thing to do."

"Thank you." Emma nodded gratefully as she scooped the box up under one arm. Her hair flew behind her like a flaxen banner as she quickly raced out of his shop, the press of time upon her heels.

In that instance, Gold and Regina stared intently at one another. For the first time since they'd met there was no hate, no malice, simply the soul of Regina and Rumpelstiltskin bared and raw. In a short amount of time control was snatched from one hand to the next, and yet when he had the upper hand he tossed his advantage at her feet out of love and remembrance for his wife.

"Boiler room of the hospital, third door from the entrance." The Madame Mayor announced suddenly her voice cold. "With what you did I could have made you my slave, Rumpelstiltskin. Holding your wife and child at my mercy you would have bowed to my every demand, but I won't. I hope this makes us even."

Without further explanation for why she had freely given up such a valuable pawn for her gain, the harpy departed quickly after Emma Swann.

The hospital! Gold nearly crowed in exuberant delight; his love was safe at the hospital! Snatching up his cane he began to depart, and yet halted as darkness begin to seep like poison back into his mind. The darkness reared back with all its sinister glory clashing with the good that wished to flourish in him.

Though he knew now of his wife's location how could he rush to her without completing the task he'd schemed for centuries? How could he let all his work go to naught and not avenge the wrongs done him?

What Regina said before she left couldn't have been further from the truth. They were not even, not by a long shot….

~8~8~

"Regina we have a problem." Doctor Whale's voice echoed uncertain over the phone.

The harpy tucked the phone in the crook to her neck, only half listening as she maneuvered the ancient brass control mechanisms that dictated the elevator which plumbed the chasms of Storybrooke.

Emma Swann rode the bulky antique lift, sword gripped in hand to slay the dragon which lurked in the belly of the town.

"What problem?" Asked the harpy in a scowl to mask the panic concerning her son. Where they too late bestow the antidote?

Static crackled over the cell. A woman screamed raggedly, desperately coupled by the soothing words of nurses who ran about in the background. "Annabelle French is having her baby." He announced followed by a quick demand to another nurse. "We can't move our equipment down here. Something's wrong with her, Regina, her or the baby."

"Take her up." She proclaimed in a grunt as she worked the rusted elevator haft. "Gold now knows where she is. He'll be there soon." On a half sardonic chuckle she added. "Maybe Mr. Gold will even thank me for what I did."

"Oh Dearie, I highly doubt that." The Dark One murmured behind her.

Regina swirled around, taken back by the murderous snarl behind her. Thankfully the elevator had just landed upon its rocky end just as his presence was known.

Before she could move, before she could even scream, the fiend moved like lightening incarnate. His cane keened through the air in a pitched whistle as it knocked the phone from Regina's grip.

The cell clacked to the floor in a broken mess, leaving the witch alone without a way to phone for aid.

A vile smirk etched Rumpelstiltskin's face with each limped step forward. Darkness swirling inside savored the fear upon her ghostly features like fine wine. "Now, Regina, I think the time has come for you to pay. You're not needed anymore, Dearie, with Emma who now knows and seeks the magic to cure her son. The curse shall be broken, and the world aright without you slithering about. You've been a valuable, cunning pawn, but now you must die."

"Wait!" She cries desperately and thrust her hands out before her as her back hit the cold brass workings of the decades old elevator. "You're wife Belle! She's gone into labor!"

Taken aback, by the stunning revelation, Gold's eyes narrowed to furtive slits. He tilted his head to the side slightly. "What…."

"That was Whale." She gulped hard, her heart racing at a horses gallop. "He wanted to know should he move her from the boiler room. I said yes because I thought you were on your way."

Belle was in labor? His first instinct was to abandon the dusty, musty library and zoom with all possible haste to the hospital and witness his child being born. And yet, darkness surged through him in a foul tide clinging on desperately to the evil he had nurtured so long as the Dark One.

Dank light glinted from the gold rending beak from his cane he lifted at an angle to swoop down upon the witch and break her skull. His eyes flickered in dark, ruinous delight. "We'll have other children; I won't miss their births once you're a pool of blood and nothing more."

"The birth isn't going well!" Regina shrieked desperately her instincts burning through her blood to stay alive.

Magic spells could not have disarmed the fiend faster. Panic audaciously traced his weathered features as though a douse of icy water had been cast over him. Blood leeched from his face leaving a hollow shell of a man rooted in place by the terrifying revelation.

Seeing him hesitate, she continued. "He said there was a problem. No doubt a complication from Guy's rough handling." Abruptly her fear dissipated as mist to the summer sun. With Gold looking as though his worst nightmare sprang to life she felt strength well inside. "So now you have a choice, Dark One. Do whatever you came here to do or be beside her…."

"That is no choice." He whispered lowly, his walking stick lowering like a banner of defeat. Stark relief shivered through Regina, before he added dangerously. "There will be no hope for your son, for now I desperately need True Love."

There was a chance she could have been lying, but for all his cunning, he was not willing to take such a risk and have her be wrong.

The confusion that flickered upon Regina's face lasted a mere moment before the cane reared again like a striking serpent. Instead of slaying her, the fiend struck her across the face with the flat of his ash would cane laying her low

Limply she tumbled in a hard heap to the dust ridden floor, leaving a worried Rumpelstiltskin hovering over her unconscious form. His lips were a grim, gray line carved from the stone of his face as he stared down coolly upon her lax figure.

With magic he could save his Belle if he wasn't to late. By all the deities and every scrap of magic left in the world, he prayed he would not be too late!

"Hang on, Belle." He pleaded under his breath. Despite the pain in his knee he paced awaiting the return of Emma with his thoughts on his wife. "Hang on…."

~8~8~

"Mr. Gold, you're just in time." Whale breathed in relief as the fiend marched through the hospital doors.

He didn't look at the doctor whilst he followed the physician through the winding corridors. "My Wife, Whale, what's happening. Has the child be born?"

"The baby is a healthy boy. He's sleeping in the nursery." He reported dourly where pride would usually lace his tones on a successful birth. "Anna, on the other hand…well…the birth has taken its toll."

Gold halted dead in his tracks as if struck. Slowly he turned his head to the nervous doctor, keeping the panic out of his tone. "What do you mean by that?"

"She's sick." His eyes looked away. "I can't explain. It's as though it took all her heart to birth the boy."

On normal circumstances, the Dark One would have been staggered by such news. Indeed, even the foul words caused his heart to clench in terror, but now he had a way to save her.

"Lead on." He bade the doctor, feeling assured in himself. He fingered the warm potion in his suit pocket, taking solace that while his plot was truly not taking the turn he wished, at least he would save his Belle.

The pair entered a small room, dimly lit. A scent of freshness, new life, wafted through the air in a pleasant aroma that melted the Dark One's heat to pulp.

Belle smiled wanly as her eyes fell upon her love. She tried to sit up, but even the action was too much. "Rum." She murmured softly, uncaring of Doctor Whale presence.

Her coppery hair gummed to her wet forehead, telling of the energy and sheer determination she'd held to birth the baby should that price be at the cost of her life itself.

Even without a medical degree, the fiend could see her life ebbing away. She had given her all to bring their son in the world and now her price was upon her.

"Leave us." He numbly ordered Whale who obeyed all too quickly.

Slowly he padded over to his wife, who stared gently at her husband. "He's beautiful." She murmured her eyes aglow. "Our son. He has your eyes and your crooked smile. He'll be as handsome as his papa when he's grown."

"I'll bet." He grinned lovingly to his wife. Forging a chair he sank to his knees by her bedside, taking in her beauty. "I expect we'll both watch him grow into a bright young man." With that he pulled out the vial from his pocket.

Hard had the situation been to procure the vial, after betraying Miss Swann, but finally, he now held the key to save his beloved. True love was magic in the rawest form. With the power he could heal her and let her life flame brightly.

Her eyes somberly fell to the glistening vial of plum hued magic. Regret and fear flashed in her orbs as she flickered her gaze back to her husband stoically. "You can't use that on me."

"This will cure whatever ills you have." He explained eagerly as though she were speaking nonsense. "True Love, the most powerful magic in all the realms. Drink and you will live."

"True Love, the only thing that will break this curse." She rebuffed faintly. "Give the potion to Henry."

Shock stamped the Dark One's features at her request. How could she even say such a thing?

Abruptly, the door swung open allowing Emma Swann to enter, her gun in hand. She could have used the arms, but seeing the pallid Anna, she paused. In a way she looked worse than Henry.

Ignoring the bounty hunter the fiend stared at his wife desperately; not comprehending. "How can you ask that of me, Belle? What of our sons, our life, our happiness?"

"Some times we must think of others." She reminded weakly. Her delicate hand laid upon his as though trying to let him understand.

If her life meant they would never be home and curse never broken so he could search for his son and bring happiness, then her life was forfeit. She would not damn a whole world to a life of misery for her sake.

He stroked her sweat dampened hair softly as he'd often done, his hands trembling with each touch. "No." He quibbled tremulously, not trusting his voice to shatter into racking sob. He pressed the cold vial to her hand desperately. "Take the magic, Belle, the power will heal you."

"Henry…." She protested weakly, barely able to shake her head.

"I don't care about Henry or the curse!" Rum proclaimed fervently but unable to raise his voice. "I care about you, Belle, my heart."

The tired beauty soothed him with a small lusterless smile of her pale lips. "I want our son to grow up in our true home. I want happiness brought back to our land and her people in their rightful world."

"I'll find some other way." His swore, clutching her hand to his chest. His thumb circled her pulse point upon her wrist, feeling the beat grow weaker and weaker.

Belle's eyes mirrored what he knew deep in the core of his being. There was no other way.

"Be brave, Rum." She whispered faintly as though her soul was being slowly wisped from her body. Her eyes were the bluest they'd ever been, like the last fire of her body shining in the prisms and facets of sapphires.

"I can't." He rasped wretchedly. Tears brimmed his chestnut eyes as he stared upon her lasts breaths. "Not without you."

She was the light of dawn that brought luminance to his soul and made him a different man. How could he live without the very breath that filled his body?

A small laugh falteringly escaped her lips. "You have far more courage than you know." She inhaled a haggard, sharp breath. "I trust you."

Trust, the first thing they had shared and only second to her love. She laid the fate of all upon his head, trusting for the first time in his life not to be selfish. How could he breach such a gift?

Oh but to lose her seemed a fate worse than torture, than death, than…than never seeing his Bae again. To lose Belle was to take his heart out of his chest and crush it beneath his boot.

He whispered solemnly, brushing her knuckles with a kiss, not trusting his voice for a moment. Though the fact broke his heart, he knew his route and the last wish she held upon her lips.

From behind, the Dark One could feel the moist eyes of Emma Swann boring into his back. Desperate and agonizing as he felt, she felt the same over her boy. Right in the other room her son, the key that would unlock the curse lay comatose and fading fast just as his Belle.

"T-take it." He choked lowly, using all his will not to roar in agony.

Unclasping his hand from his love, he held out the glimmering amethyst potion to the curse breaker. Nothing since he had claimed Belle had gone as planned in his schemes, but that's what goodness did when it clashed with evil, he supposed morosely - changed things.

As their hands met to exchange the potion the door to the room swung open in a thunderous wind. Blood dribbled from the left of Regina's face as she stared at the pair, though her eyes were only for the potion; the potion that would save her son, the potion that Mr. Gold held in his hand to save his dying wife.

With the fury of a desperate mother she leapt for the glass vessel containing the only magic powerful enough to bring a life back near the realm of death or sever a curse.

"Regina, stop!" Emma screamed in surprise, but the moment was not to be halted.

The harpy's hand tried to curl over the stopper and yank the glass from the Dark One's grip. In the same moment, Emma tried to snatch the bottle away as Gold pulled the precious fluid near to his chest.

Time seemed to slow as the actions all disastrously collided as one. All watched in numb desperation as the bottle hit the tiled hospital floor.

_Crack!_

Glass shattered into a thousand brilliantly hued shards letting its contents flow free upon the washed floor. The magic, the last hope, now lay in a vibrant glowing puddle upon the tile.

For a moment all silently stared at the brightly hued liquid.

Their last hope, everyone's last hope, lay no more than a mar under their feet in a pile of glass like spilled milk.

"No…" Emma murmured in disbelief, her eyes holding the glow of purple. "No!" The word shrieked from her mouth desperately.

Careless of the glass the Dark One dabbed his hands in the liquid as though trying to gather the fluid up. How, after everything, their hope was dashed by a fragile bottle and desperation from three desperate people.

"Henry." Regina uttered her sons name in mournful shock. "My son…."

As if on cue, a thunderous herd of footsteps began to race outside the door. Alarms trilled through the air in the next room setting both mothers hearts ablaze. Forgetting Gold, they hurried to the next room, hoping, praying, the end had not come.

It couldn't be, the Dark One thought numbly. Ignoring the shards that stabbed his hands, the fiend desperately tried scooping up the potion only to have the syrupy substance drip through his fingers. So close, so close and now not even breaking the curse was viable!

In every way shape for and fashion he had failed. He failed his wife, his new born, the town, even Henry. His evil, his planning, his corruption, had all come with one disastrous price.

"Belle, I'm so sorry." He stammered at his wits end, still unable to believe what the vastness of the mess. His fingers were slicked with blood and potion as he looked down at the smears of magic. When there was no reply, his head shot up in alarm.

Only a faint blip rose now and again from the heart monitor. The little gray dot was barely visible to his eyes.

Slowly, he turned to look at his wife. Her eyes were closed and her face serene just as when she slept curled in his arms.

Emotion hitched in his throat nearly blocking his breath. Forgetting the elixir, forgetting all else, he leaned beside her bed, fearful to speak. "Belle?" He whispered cautiously as he might if she were only napping.

She didn't reply.

"Belle." He swallowed down his grief, hoping and praying she would open her eyes once more. "Belle please don't go; not yet." His tears gave way then as he stared upon her unmoving form. Though her pulse ticked ever so faintly there was not enough, she was asleep and slipping away breath by slower breath. "I never got to say goodbye." He whispered raggedly.

He had never gotten to say he loved her one last time.

Loneliness and desperation washed over him in a breaking storm. The people outside the room jumped as a howl like a wounded beast rang through the level of the hospital.

He wept over her, in huge wracking sobs he'd not known since his boy vanished. Belle, his heart, his soul, his life was wrenched from him. Now, finally, utterly, there was no hope in his heart.

So enthralled in his grief he never noticed the pulse that emanated from the next room. A wave of magic hummed out along the town of Storybrooke in a curse broken from something as simple as a kiss of true love.

Oblivious, Rumpelstiltskin wailed over his beloved nearly in the shaded lands of death. His hot, scalding tears brooked like rain down his cheeks wetting his hands that curled over her own; hands that were slick with the potion of true love.

In that moment magic met magic. The potion, met the raw emotion of true love once more making the powers spring to life. His tears were akin to fire and the fluid dry straw setting a roaring blaze which instantly turned into an inferno.

Warmth curled over the Dark One's hand as he unabashedly wept. Unhinged by the feeling he'd known so long ago, he gazed up mournfully. His eyes widened as he witnessed a thick purple cloud roiling from his hand.

Magic.

Lilac hued smoke billowed from his hand and unto the floor as mist come down from the mountains. The purple vapors crawled to the rest of the glimmering liquid. Catching ablaze, the magic began to spread in rolling waves under foot.

Power blazed through his veins like fire. The force of spells surged through his blood, bringing the damson tinted magic back to his body. Magic that could save his Belle.

Without thinking the Dark One summoned his power back to his beck. Perhaps saving her was not to late; perhaps he could heal her wounds and the trials the birthing had wrought.

The words came unbidden to his mind to heal her. Closing his eyes he forced the power through her knitting and repairing any ill. His magic leeched from his body as he poured his heart and soul into every incantation he recalled. Power erupted form his fingertips, all focused on his love.

Exhaustion weighed upon his scrawny shoulders as the spells faltered from his lips. Magic took it's toll, and yet he would gladly pay a thousand times over for her to live.

Wordlessly, his moist eyes searched her still form silently, begging pleading. Had it been enough, had he done it?

"Belle." He whispered her name cautiously.

She remained still. On the heart monitor only a thin unwavering line rolled dreadfully across the screen.

His heart crumpled with maddening grief as nothing happened. She didn't shift, her pulse did not return. A ragged sob tore from his lips, and then, her eyes opened.

The beeping on the monitor began in a steady, hearty wave, telling the tale of the impossible. From the very brink of death he had brought her back.

"Belle!" He never said her name with so much joy and passion.

Immediately she began to move, her body growing with strength. With little effort she sat up and wrapped her slender arms about his neck. Her breathed whispered happily through her ear as she hugged him tight. "You did it. I knew I could trust you, my love."

"Forgive me." He begged piteously, his heart bursting with emotion as he buried his face in her mane. "Forgive me for not heeding your words, fool that I am."

"All is forgiven, beloved." She laughed gaily. A smile stretched from ear to ear as she clung to him for all she could. "Now, let's introduce you to our son, before the real work begins…."

**~8~8~**

_A/N: Whew, big chapter, I sincerely hope it was worth it. Let me explain a few things, since this is AU, Gold did NOT know a kiss would break the curse and therefore use the potion for anything else. Also, one chapter to go! The last chapter will be the epilogue to this tale, so I hope you all enjoy! _


	37. Epilogue

"And that, little Avren is how we just began our perilous quest to sunder the fetters of the curse and get back home." Belle ended softly with a large, fond smile to her child. Loving arms encircled his tiny form protectively to her thudding chest as he nuzzled his reddish dappled cheek against her sky blue chemise.

The bright eyed youngling gurgled happily in appreciation and swatted one tiny hand at tendrils of his mothers russet hair while his other gripped the top of her blouse to help him pull himself up. A yawn fell from his lips, but he determinedly remained awake; much too curious about the features of his mothers face than the sleep that softly beckoned him to a land of dreams.

He was nearly a year old and so like his energetic and mischievous father in many ways. Already he had escaped his crib thrice and always managed to slip into places of the now homey instead of ominous Dark Castle with a tactical cunning far beyond his youth.

Golden rays of wondrous spring sunshine slanted through the monolithic glass panes of the Dark Castle dousing the pair in a tawny, cheery glow beaming upon their flesh. Light danced through their coppery manes turning each lock a burnished ruddy hue.

The beauty sat nestled comfortably in her perch of long ago upon the padded window ledge where she could view the alabaster capped peaks of the jagged mountains surrounding her home. Even after nigh 30 years, the cushioned window seat was still her favorite place in the stronghold of Rumpelstiltskin's citadel.

Memories both good and ill were carved upon such a nook, but the fond far outweighed the evil in her estimation. There the first seed of love had been planted in the fallowed heart, and there she sat again not as a slave, but mistress of the citadel beside her Rum.

How things could change from dour desperateness to happiness, Belle thought amusedly allowing her mind to ramble as was often her wont. Even the Dark Castle was transformed from the ominous drafty palace to a grand estate worthy of being truly called a home. The drear and dank became awash with light, the haunting presence of long ago phantoms departed peacefully to eternal slumber, and even the shadow that did linger in the dusty corners seemed no more than the dark of items instead of living malicious things cavorting upon the cold stone.

Rubbing her nose lightly against her sons, she spoke to the persistently squirming child with the tenderness only a mother could know. "Now we had a deal; a story and then nap time." She reminded him with a laugh.

"And a fine tale you tell, Dearie." Rumpelstiltskin commended pleasantly from across the Main Hall.

Belle perched her head up eagerly to hear his falsetto timbre. Her azure eyes immediately fell to her husband as her heart swelled in delight simply towards his presence.

Arms crossed, the fiend leaned lazily upon a gray granite pillar; looking at his life and his love unnoticed from afar. Where once was a cold uncaring man thinking himself a beast stood a man who'd learned of love and goodness from the only one who'd ever saw any noble qualities behind the fathomless eyes and black talons.

No longer did he possess the flesh of a normal man. Once they returned to their world, his skin took the glimmering dragon scales, and the voided onyx eyes of old; his eternal curse for bearing that dark magic's which gave him his strength. His suits, once so debonair and expensively tailored of silks became once again mulled leather jerkins and breeches adding to his oddity.

Belle didn't mind, however; never had she cared a whit what skin he donned. Attraction and beauty always lied within no matter what form he took, be he human or beast. He would be her Rum, always and forever.

Belle smiled infectiously as she shifted the yawning child gingerly upon her chest. Her fingers petted his silky ringlets tenderly lulling him to sleep. "I want our son to learn how we beat all odds and came back to our world." She replied and giggled suddenly. "And besides, he always falls asleep afterwards. It's his favorite story."

"One day, Belle-of-mine, you'll have to pen the tale so our story won't be lost to the fog of legend in ages to come." He suggested jokingly as he padded softly towards them.

His oddly hued flesh glimmered like gold glistening in a clear rivers bed as he stepped into the oblique light. Dust motes drifted about him as dancing little people before falling away making another smile perk upon the beauty's lips. Gentleness softened his strange face as he stared down upon them with love and fatherly protectiveness.

Stroking his son's dark amber hair, a grin involuntarily crept upon his features.

The child truly did have his eyes and his smile. His hair was the russet color of his mothers and his face was more reminiscent of hers, even having the same curious look when a novelty intrigued him.

He was, in truth, a product of the strongest magic of them all.

The gorgeous beauty rubbed the boys back in slow circles as the warmth from the titanic window coyly coaxed him into happy dreams. Her eyes flickered curiously to her love. "I saw the messenger falcon fly by the window. Does Bae send news from the realm of Queen Snow and King James?"

"He does indeed." Pride welled in his voice. "He says his knight training goes well along with Prince Henry's. He'll be on his way home in a few weeks."

After all the time searching for his boy and the many trials laid before them to hurdle, when they had finally tracked down his Bae the boy had not aged a day from his youth when he slipped into the sinister portals blinding iris years and years ago.

Age was only now beginning to creep upon him now that the curse was broken and the world righted. Now back home, he vehemently wished to fight for the downtrodden and helpless and now he was pursuing his dream.

A half sanguine grin twitched upon the side of her lips as she looked away coyly from her love. "And, I trust Darren and Sarah has been looking out for him?"

Of course the true names of Bandit and Lady were actually Darren Steelstrike, son of a blacksmith, and Princess Sarah. One of the first things the restored Dark One had done when they arrived back in their world was alleviate the curse from both loyal animals.

Back in their proper forms, the pair explained how a powerful sorceress had cursed them on Sarah's father, a wealthy nobleman's behest, for she loved a smart mouthed young peasant who had a penchant for thievery.

Surprising they fell to their knees, their hands clasped, piteously begging the fiend to change them back. What once seemed a curse to the in love pair, horrendously enchanted with fur and claws was a blessing in disguise.

To them both, life as human seemed too cloistered and complicated to those who'd lived so long free and wild. They perfered their canine form far more than the human skin. And now they watched over Baelfire whilst he learned the arts of war and the honor of knighthood in the free, happy lands of the Charming's.

"I trust they haven't let him get into too much trouble." He mumbled and pecked his wife's nose with a kiss.

He lifted a gnarled claw to her face tenderly letting his fingers brush against her lush tresses. For a moment his heart jerked painfully, seeing how starkly he contrasted to his gorgeous wife's peach toned skin against his scaled flesh. Subduing the thought easily, his thumb stroked her milky skin beneath his wiry talons warily; always surprised when she did not recoil in revulsion of him.

Their eyes sank deeply into one another, entranced, blue tangling and melding instinctively with shinning ebony in glorious togetherness. She cared not about the man on the outside but the soul shining within which still besotted her heart whenever he smiled or was near.

How he loved her, his heart of hearts.

How she loved him, her very breath.

Their love was akin to a tangible presence betwixt them tethering them together far more than any magic could bind. Slowly, his lips neared her own, wishing to capture her mouth in a warm sweet kiss.

Immediately the tiny child caught between them began to stir once more. His tightly closed eyes opened happily to see his father hovering over him akin to a guardian. He smiled showing a bright scarlet mouth and little buds of growing teeth to his papa. Happily, never repulsed or frighten by his scaled skin, he squealed in childish delight. Cooing and clapping his hands in the way gleeful little children do, he raised his pudgy fingers to the sky seeking to grab onto his beloved papa.

Rumpelstiltskin laughed merrily, unperturbed in the least the tender moment was broken by their son. Without hesitation he scooped the child up in his wiry arms causing a mumbled giggle to dribble from the boy's mouth.

His hairless brow furrowed in mock anger as he held his Avren to eyes level and jestingly chastised his son. "You, little terror, you should be asleep. Deals are never broken in this household."

Avren merely swung his tubby legs in reply and reached out to grab his father's straggly dirty brown hair. He pouted slightly, sending a wave of merriment rumbling through his father throat. "You've got your mothers spirit alright." He nipped playfully at his sons wriggling fingertips, causing a babbling gurgle of laughter to pass his lips. "She was never willing to give up either. Oh but the time for play is done for now and little ones must sleep, and dream of adventures before their strong enough to go about and more trouble find."

Slowly, the fiend placed the child back in his wife's awaiting arms. The babe gurgled mildly in weak protest but sank dreamily into his mothers arms. A magic spell seemed to rush over the child soothing his excitement once more.

A yawn squeaked from his bright pink mouth as he snuggled against his mother, taking solace in her arms as much as he did the strength of his father.

Belle gazed down at the bundle already softly breathing in the realms of sleep. Her voice was little more than a whisper. "He may have my spirit, but he has your soul, husband; kind and gentle and wiling to do the right thing."

"Small mercies." Rum huffed softly. A ghost of a frown flitted across his lips, dying as soon as it came. "I'd loathe if he'd use his powers for ill."

Indeed, their son had been graced with the skill of magic though they'd only seen a fraction of his power here and there. A product of true love from the most powerful sorcerer had bred another of magical proficiency without the aid of an enchanted dagger or curse.

The beauty kissed the crown of her sons, chestnut hair and wrapped her arms tighter about him. "Never. We will teach him goodness and kindness and compassion, and point to the black spire where Regina lurks the rest of her days devoid of magic and friends alike."

"I shall teach him that no matter how powerful his magic's be, True Love is forever the stronger." He declared softly.

Kneeling next to the window seat, the fiend placed his head upon her lap, taking in the moment of quiet togetherness. He breathed in her sweet, intoxicating perfume of love of honeysuckle and the smell of powder lingering upon his boy. With his loving wife, his sons, in their world and home, he had never felt so complete. There was no missing piece in his life, only wholeness and one.

"To think." He chuckled ironically. "You came here as property only to own me mind, body, and soul instead."

"I own you as much as you own me, husband." She murmured drowsily and tucked her head next to her sons. The flaxen warmth cascading through the large pane was not only tempting sleep upon their child. "We are one. Bound by love and marriage and the children we rear."

A chuckle mumbled sleepily from his lips. They were woven together in every aspect, in every breath. Not even the accursed blade held so much thrall over him than his beloved wife. Because of her, his life truly altered from the snarling beast to a good man once more. She taught him courage and compassion and love not grounded in selfishness or evil devices.

He left his true realm with a black heart and she nothing more than a flicker of light in the dark morass of his soul. Now he returned with gladdened heart and goodness that bubbled like a clear mountain spring from his once black soul.

With their lives a completely different course from what they known before the curse spirited them away, in their eyes, their land truly was a whole new world.

Head still upon her lap, Rumpelstiltskin watched his wife and son fall into wondrous repose of dreams. Content to love and protect and cherish them with all his being, he tenderly gazed upon them in the golden glow of sunlight streaming from the mountains until he too fell asleep beside his family.

**~8~8~**

_A/N: I hope you all enjoyed! Writing this was just too much fun and Rum/Belle is just way too great anyway :D. Regrettably, I won't be on FF to much from here on out. I might write a one-shot here or there, but nothing major. When I came across FF I was writing my own fantasy novel at the time. Needless to say I was perilously sidetracked, because for me writing on FF is addicting as well as a vast learning experience. So many people have given me help on my writing style and given much needed advice. Now, I need to continue the pursuit of my own tales before I'm stuck on FF forever. I've had so much fun writing all my stories, escpaically Rum/Belle, and I sincerely hope you've enjoyed them as well! :3_

_P.S If you're interested in learning more about my own personal work you can PM me. *Shameless self advertising over* _


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